


X-Patrol: Chapter 26 – Holton

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Crossover, Fiction, M/M, Mpreg, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-19
Updated: 2005-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-20 07:17:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11331066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Skinner recovers but his shooting attracts some unwanted attention.





	X-Patrol: Chapter 26 – Holton

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

X-Patrol: Chapter 26 – Holton

###  X-Patrol: Chapter 26 – Holton

#### by Jo B

  


Title: X-Patrol: Chapter 26 - Holton 

Author: Jo B 

Keywords: M/Sk, D/K, J/B, D/M, F/V/K, L/S, M/O Slash, AU, mpreg, crossover: X-Files/The Sentinel/Highlander/Due South/Homicide LOTS 

Rating: NC-17 

Story Summary: Colonization has begun. Four men set aside their differences and form an alliance to fight the aliens and stake out a new life together in their shattered world. 

Chapter Summary: Skinner recovers but his shooting attracts some unwanted attention. 

Disclaimer: The X-Files are the property Chris Carter, 1013 productions and Fox Broadcasting. The Sentinel belongs to Pet Fly Productions, UPN, and Paramount. Highlander is the property of Rysher/Panzer/Davis/Gaumont/Fireworks. Due South belongs to Alliance Communication. Homicide Life on the Street is the property of NBC and its related companies. No money is being made from their use. 

Author's notes: LaurieG, Kei, and I created a deck of tarot cards for X-Patrol. You can now put a face with the original characters and print the deck. I updated and revised chapters 1-18 and made a PDF file of chapters. These chapters comprise book 1, which is mainly a crossover between The-X-Files and The Sentinel. The PDF file is set up for two-sided duplex printing. 

I felt the town of Holton needed to be further developed, since the country is in the process of rebuilding. So part of this chapter revolves around a few of the members of the Holton Sheriff's Department. If you read the disclaimer and key words you'll noticed there's another crossover in town. 

Warning! This story contains romance between two men. Turn back now, if the subject matter offends you. 

Warning! Warning! This story contains male pregnancy! Eek run for your lives! 

Archive: Yes, just leave my name attached. 

Web site: http://slashingmulder.com/JoB/ 

Tarot Cards: http://slashingmulder.com/JoB/Tarot/tarotcards.htm 

PDF of Chapter 1 - 18: http://www.slashingmulder.com/JoB/XP_book1.pdf 

Special thanks to my beta-readers Joey and Xscribe. 

* * *

Chapter 26  
X-Patrol 

Holton 

The Fox 

Friday, November 26, 2004 

While Mulder was reaching for a log on the top of the woodpile, a sharp pain shot through his shoulder and took his breath away. He staggered back. It took him a moment to realize the pain was coming from Walter -- not him. Cold fear washed over Mulder as he morphed into a wolf and took off in the direction of the hunting stands. 

The visions he had had of his and Walter's future children were merely what could be, not what would be. If Walter died, their unborn children would never see life. Did it matter without Walter? If Mulder lost Walter then his future would hold little meaning. He would still raise their children, but all other pleasures would be gone. Mulder would try to hold it together for their son and daughters. He'd be strong for them -- Walter would expect nothing less. 

As Mulder sprinted down the paths, he got angry. No! He wouldn't allow Walter to die on him when they had just started their life together. Mulder was tired of everyone he loved dying or being hurt -- it just wasn't fair! 

On top of a small hill, he found his mate lying on the blood-splattered snow. Seeing so much blood sent a shudder of fear down his spine as he hurried over to Walter's side. In wolf form, he did what came naturally and nudged the cotton away from the wound with his snout, and started licking the oozing wound. The blood slowed then stopped as the saliva's healing properties helped the wound to close. 

With the bleeding stopped Mulder morphed back into his human form, and pulled Walter's unconscious body onto his lap and off the cold ground. He looked at his lover's pale face, blue-gray lips from the cold and loss of blood. Walter shuddered and moaned. Mulder held him tighter while muttering words of reassurance into his ear. "Hang on, sweetheart, it's going to be all right." He turned to the other two men in a panic. 

"We need to get him home!" Mulder's vision blurred with tears as he looked between Alex and Simon. 

"Melvin went to get Liz," Simon said. 

"What happened?" Mulder asked while tears streamed down his cheeks as he cradled his lover's body. 

"He's going to be fine, Fox." Alex moved closer and placed a hand on Mulder's shoulder and another on Walter's chest. "One of the poachers Walt chased off our land last month was lying in wait for us." 

"Where is the poacher?" Mulder felt his temper rise. How dare anyone intrude on their property and shoot his husband? 

"Dead." Alex glanced back up the hill. "His body is up there." 

"Good." Mulder caressed Walter's bearded face while looking into Alex's eyes. "We'll have Sean fly the body to Holton for identification and burial." 

"Couldn't I just bury him in the woods then we can forget he ever existed?" Alex asked. 

"No. I don't want him buried on our land." Mulder shifted Walter's body and hoped Liz would hurry. "Did you kill the poacher as a werewolf?" 

"Yes," Alex said. 

Mulder nodded. "Then any coroner examining the body will assume he was killed by a wild animal. With the growing crime problem in Holton, it's doubtful that they'll do a complete autopsy." 

"Sheriff Fife can be pretty thorough," Simon warned. 

"I'm confident that whatever story Sean tells the Sheriff, it will give Fife no reason to suspect foul play." Mulder turned his head at the sound of a horse approaching and watched as Liz and Frohike rode into view. She had one arm around Frohike's waist and the other was holding her heavy doctor's bag. 

Simon hurried to help her down. 

"Thanks," she said, running over to where Mulder held Walter and kneeling beside them. "Mel explained what happened." Liz examined the wound. "Good, you got the bleeding stopped, but we'll still need to give him a transfusion." She used a stethoscope to listen to Walter's heart while probing the wound with her other hand. Liz peeled back the blood soaked clothing. "There's so much blood," she muttered. 

Mulder's hand and shirt was caked red from holding Walter. His jeans were soaked from kneeling on the bloody ground. Shivers raced through Walter's body from the cold. Mulder was too numb to feel the cold. 

Liz ran her hand down Walter's back, searching for an exit wound. "The bullet is still in him. It will have to come out," she said. "I'll need an x-ray to determine its location and to check the extent of the damage." She frowned. "His breathing is too shallow. I'll bandage the wound then let's get him home, so I can do a more thorough examination and we can use the radio to contact Sean. Sam Jones has an x-ray machine at the vet clinic; it would be quicker than flying to Holton." 

While Mulder didn't like the thought of Walter being treated at an animal hospital, taking him to Holton would raise too many questions. "Alex, please run home and radio Sean. Simon and I will take care of getting Walter home," Mulder said. 

"I'll radio the vet as well," Alex said and morphed into a wolf. He took off racing down the snow-covered path. 

Liz finished patching Walter's shoulder and Simon walked over holding Rose's reins. The stallion had taken off after Walter had been shot. 

"I'll help you get him in the saddle," Simon said to Mulder. 

"Let me get on the horse first then you can pass him up to me." 

Mulder swung into the saddle and Simon lifted Walter's body over his shoulder then deposited him in Mulder's arms. Holding his husband's body, Mulder started the horse moving slowly down the path. He was worried about reopening the wound by going too fast or losing his hold on Walter. 

A distressed, coatless Wade came running down the path toward them. "Alex told us what happened," he said. Hurrying alongside the mare and placing a hand on his son's leg, Wade looked up at Mulder. "Sonja is getting your bedroom ready for him, and John has taken the children upstairs to their bedroom." 

"Thanks," Mulder said. At least he didn't have to worry about the children being traumatized by seeing Walter in such a condition. 

Wade walked beside them as they rode the final two miles into the yard and stopped outside the back door. The elder Skinner eased his son's body off the horse and hefted him over his shoulder. 

Liz was out of the saddle and hurrying to open the vestibule door for Wade. Mulder was quicker and rushed inside to hold open the inside door as Wade carried Walter into the house. Mulder vaguely heard Simon tell Frohike, "Go on inside. I'll take care of the horses." 

A moan of pain passed Walter's lips after his Dad carried him into the bedroom and laid him down on the bed. Sonja was in the room and helped Wade to undress their son while Mulder stood at the foot of the bed, not wanting to get in the way, but wanting to be near if Walter should need him. 

Liz had her large doctor's bag on the table and was pulling out the blood pressure cuff, her stethoscope, and a wicked looking needle, tubing, and a bottle. Mulder recognized the contraption from the times he'd given blood. Unfortunately he wasn't Walter's blood type, but luckily Wade, John, Ray, Jimmy, Laura, and Blair were. 

During one of Walter's administrative moments, he had made a chart of all of theirs, their friends, and the children's blood types in case they ever needed them in an emergency. 

"Wade, would you like to do the honors?" Liz asked, holding up the bottle. 

Not answering, Wade rolled up his sleeve and sat on the love seat. 

"I'm going to need your blood, too, Blair," Liz said, looking at where Blair and Jim stood quietly in the doorway. 

"Sure, Doc, take as much as you need," Blair said. 

With Wade out of the way, Mulder hurried to help Sonja. She was washing the blood off Walter's chest with warm soapy water that she had in a ceramic washbowl on the dresser. 

Sonja looked up and admonished him. "Fox, go wash up in the bathroom and put on clean clothes -- you're covered in blood." 

He looked between Walter's pale body and her, and decided it was better to do as ordered than try to argue with a Skinner. Walter got the hard ass, authoritative part of his personality from his mother -- his father was more laid back. Mulder hurried out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. He didn't take any clean clothes with him, since he would only dirty them in his present state. Turning on the shower, he stripped out of his clothes, throwing them into the hamper. Alex walked into the bathroom. 

"Sean's on his way and Sam is standing by at the clinic." 

"Thanks, Alex," Mulder said as he stepped into the claw-footed bathtub and pulled the shower curtain shut. 

"No problem," Alex said on the other side of the curtain. "What are families for?" 

They were, weren't they? Mulder thought. They'd gone from being enemies and strangers, to friends, to family. Alex, John, Jim, and Blair were now as close to Mulder as brothers. He wasn't sure when that had happened, it just had and it eased his mind, knowing he wasn't alone. He had four brothers to lean on until Walter healed. Five if he counted Jeffrey. Mulder quickly scrubbed the blood off his body, anxious to get back to Walter. 

~x~X~x~ 

The Dog 

"I wanna play downstairs," Connor said. 

"We have to stay in here until dinner is ready," Doggett said, feeling every bit as caged as the children. He wanted to find out how Walter was doing. 

"Uncle Sean is here," Joey said and ran toward the door moments before the sound of a helicopter reached Doggett's ears. 

Doggett snatched Joey off his feet before the child could open the bedroom door. "Oh no, you don't." He set Joey back down and then stood in front of the door. "No one leaves until dinner is ready." He crossed his arms over his chest and tried to look stern. 

"Why not?" Gwen questioned. 

"Because ... Uncle Blair is making you a surprise for dinner." Doggett said, hoping it would distract them enough for Walter to be loaded onto the helicopter. 

"Mommy is making Daddy chocolate chip mint ice SCREAM," Joey said. 

"I want ice SCREAM!" Conner said. 

"Only if you're good," Doggett said as he felt the baby kick. He was being assaulted from inside and out. "Let's finish making the puzzle then I'll check with Uncle Blair to see if it's all right for us to go downstairs." 

"Okay," Conner said and stomped over to the small table. 

At least the kids kept Doggett's mind off Walter. 

~x~X~x~ 

The Mantra Ray 

Veterinarian Sam Jones worked in the darkroom developing the x-rays. He had been the vet for the valley and mountain area for almost twenty years. He knew everyone in the community -- some better than others. 

Jones knew a little about Fox Mulder and Walter Skinner, the latter of whom was being treated in his vet clinic for a gunshot wound. Hunting accident, Liz had said. The vet knew Mulder and Walter had once worked together in the FBI. Jones had only been out to Moonridge Lodge twice since Old Man Peterson had died. The first time was after Mulder had purchased the place; Jones had stopped out to examine the milking cows that had recently calved. A farmer in the valley had bought the calves, and Jones wanted to make sure the cows had healed properly. The vet remembered being amused at how green Mulder had been at milking the cows, but the stalls were clean and cows had even been groomed. What Mulder had lacked in experience, he made up for with hard work and an innate sense of caring. 

The second time Jones stopped out was during this summer when he was out to check on the men's pregnant cows and mare. The cows were due to give birth in February. Since he was out, Jones had examined the chickens and pigs, too. After he had finished examining the livestock he was invited to have dinner with the men and their children. It had been an amusing and pleasant experience. The meal was exceptional. It had been a long time since Jones had had lasagna and fresh garlic bread, along with a superb glass of Chianti. He had an open invitation to stop by for lunch or dinner whenever he was in the area again. 

Before the Banks had moved into the area, Jones had little reason to visit that part of the mountain, unless his veterinarian services were requested. He was kept extremely busy with dozens of small and large farms in the valley and other parts of the mountains. He was grateful when Daryl Banks had shown an interest in becoming a vet. The teenager had interned with Jones last summer, and would be interning for him again this summer. Daryl had a natural talent with animals. 

As for the other residents from that section of mountain, Jones knew Liz from her and her husband's friendship with the Elends. During small intimate dinner parties hosted by the Elends, Jones had had lengthy discussions with Liz about past medical advancements in the areas of stem cell research and cloning. Research that was now, for all Jones knew, stalled. 

The men at Moonridge Lodge, and the new men and women living at Wolf's Peak had become the source of gossip in the broader community, including Holton. There was a mystique about them that had tongues waggling, and it didn't help that most of the men were legally married to their selective male partners. Gay men raising children seemed to offend those who didn't know them, while it didn't bother those who were close acquaintances of the men. At Seacouver's, Helmut Schmidt would threaten to knock heads together if anyone insulted his friends at Moonridge Lodge. Most men knew better than to piss off the large German pig farmer, especially when Vernon O'Neil, Hugh Wagner, and Don Wade stood to back Helmut up. Getting into a physical altercation with farmers was something the guys from the city of Holton wisely avoided. 

Jones continued to think about the changes that were happening in his community. Seacouver's had been a very welcome addition. Being a lousy cook, Jones no longer had to rely on his client's generosity for a good meal. He now had somewhere to go four days a week that was only fifteen miles from his clinic in the valley. Jones had received a discount on his meals at Seacouver's in exchange for his services. He was helping Joe plan a small barn for raising goats, and a chicken coop. 

Although Joe got his eggs and milk from other farms on the mountain for the restaurant, he had told Jones that their chef, Anton Caudieux, wanted to produce a line of goat's cheese and was willing to take care of both the goats and chickens. According to Joe, Chef Anton had moved into one of the two guestrooms in their upstairs apartment. He had been commuting the twenty-five miles from Holton but with winter that had become too dangerous. 

Jones turned on the light in the darkroom and opened the door picking up the x-rays. 

They had Walter in the sanitized surgery. The stainless steel operating table was too small to accommodate a human, so Sean had laid a board of plywood over it and covered it with plastic. Jones had noticed that their Ranger was taking better care of his appearance. He was cleanly shaved and had his mustache neatly trimmed. Love would do strange things to men. It had been a long time since Jones had been in love; his wife had died of breast cancer ten years ago. 

Standing beside the improvised operating table, Mulder held his husband's hand. Walter was awake and appeared groggy; his eyes were focused on Mulder's face. Walter was receiving another blood transfusion. Liz had radioed Laura and had asked her to get blood from the other compatible donors on the mountain. They would need the plasma for the surgery. 

Jones put the x-rays up on the light box. Liz stopped what she was doing to view the x-rays. She shook her head. "I was afraid of that." 

"What's wrong?" 

"The shot was fired uphill from Walter ... the bullet entered at a downward angle, doing substantial damage." Liz pointed to where the bullet entered and rested. "Luckily it missed the auxiliary artery, but it tore through the pectoralis and clipped his right lung. Due to the trouble he's been having breathing I had suspected as much. I'll need a rib spreader to reach the bullet and repair the damage." She looked up at Jones. "With yours and Laura's help, I think we should have operation complete in five hours." 

Jones nodded. "I've never performed surgery on a human, but I'm more than willing to assist you, Doctor." 

"That's the spirit." Liz smiled. "We'll have to wait for Laura to arrive with the plasma; we're going to need every drop," she said. "I'm going to start prepping Walter for surgery." 

As Jones stepped out of the operating room, Wade and Sonja Skinner walked into the clinic. 

"How's our son doing?" Sonja asked. 

"As well as could be expected," Jones said and nodded to the door he'd just passed though. "He's conscious, if you'd like to go see him." 

Sonja rushed by Jones into the room, while Wade stopped and held out his hand to Jones. "Thanks for making your clinic available for my son," Wade said as they shook hands. "I greatly appreciate it and am willing to repay your charity." 

"No need, it is my duty to help," Jones said. 

"No, I intend to repay you," Wade insisted. "How about I make a woodcarving for your clinic?" 

The vet had seen a few of Wade Skinner's woodcarvings and had been suitably impressed. "I've admired your carvings, Wade. That grizzly bear you did for Sean was remarkable work, so I'd be honored to have one of your carvings for the clinic." 

"Good, it will give me something to do over the winter," Wade said then headed into the room to see his son. 

~x~X~x~ 

The Snake 

"Your resume is impressive," Spender said as he looked at the young man sitting in front of his desk. Jack Smith was every bit as beautiful as Fox and Alex, and that earned him Spender's immediate distrust. If it weren't for Smith's brother, Spender would have wanted nothing to do with him. The smoker had learned that beauty often had a deadly sting. It was unsettling looking into a pair of hazel eyes that reminded him of Fox. 

"I was told you have a job for me," Jack said. "I was told you were willing to pay more than my normal fee." 

"I have two jobs for you," Spender said. "One is to eliminate a former employee of mine who betrayed me, and the other is to kidnap my son." 

"I'm your man," Jack said. 

"I expect loyalty from my employees," Spender said. "Those who betray me don't live very long." 

"I'm an independent contractor, not your employee," Jack said eyes narrowing. "After this job I'll go my own way." 

"In this world a person doesn't last long working for themselves," Spender said. 

"I'll take my chances." 

"Very well," Spender said. "We'll re-explore this conversation after you complete the assignment." 

"I'm not likely to change my position," Jack said. 

Spender placed three photos on his desk and Jack leaned forward to study them. 

"The woman is Marita Covarrubias," the smoker said. "I don't care how you do it, but I want her dead." 

"That shouldn't be a problem." Jack studied the photo before turning his attention to the other two photos. 

"This is my son, Fox Mulder. I want you to kidnap him and bring him back here to me." 

"Who's the other guy?" 

"Alex Krycek." Spender leaned back in his chair and lit a cigarette. "There's a bonus in this assignment if you can bring me both Fox and Alex -- alive." 

"I'm not sure I can handle both of them," Jack said. 

"Then don't," Spender said. "It's more important that you bring me Fox." He needed Fox's DNA to complete his treatment. While Spender could have Smith abduct Jeffrey, his younger son wouldn't last very long under the intense medical procedures that would be needed. At least not long enough to complete Spender's cure. So he was forced to use Fox for that purpose. 

"Where is this assignment?" the young man asked. 

"Virginia." Spender studied Jack's face. "You were chosen more for who you are than what you are." 

"Who am I?" 

"Ranger Sean Smith's younger brother." 

"Fuck! Forget it!" Jack stood quickly and the chair toppled over. "You didn't tell me this involved Sean!" 

"Indirectly..." Spender took a deep drag on the cigarette. 

"Sean hates my guts." 

"You're his baby brother; I'm sure you'll be able to work out whatever differences you have." 

"You don't know my brother." 

"Not true, I know a lot about him." Spender opened a folder sitting on his desk. "He's a decorated veteran from the gulf war and a licensed pilot. Your brother has contacts high up within the army and air force. He's forty-five, has never been married, and has one sibling, an estranged younger brother who fell in with the wrong crowd. It broke Sean's heart that you became a mercenary and an all around scoundrel." The smoker closed the folder. "You see, Jack, if you go to Sean and apologize for your past crimes and promise to turn your life around, he would accept you with open arms." 

"Sean isn't going to buy it," Jack said. 

"It's the holiday season -- he'll be amenable." 

"Maybe I don't want to hurt him by deceiving him." 

"Maybe you'll do what you're told and you'll keep your brother safe in the process." 

"Are you threatening him?" Jack took two menacing steps toward the desk and suddenly found himself on the floor with several large armed men holding him down. He was yanked back to his feet. 

"Your brother's life is in your hands," Spender said, realizing he had found the young man's weak spot. "You will complete your assignment and he will live to be an old man." 

"You fucking old bastard." 

The guard standing to Jack's left drove his fist into the young man's stomach. Jack doubled over in pain. 

"Did you say something?" Spender asked. 

"Okay, I'll do what you want." Jack straightened. "Just don't harm Sean." 

"Good." Spender turned to his guards. "Escort him to the Wisconsin border." Then turning back to Jack, he added, "You will walk to Madison then take the first Greyhound heading to Virginia." 

"I have a motorcycle...." 

"You had a motorcycle. Your brother will have more pity on you, if you arrive penniless." Spender could have allowed Jack to ride his bike to Virginia then catch a bus to Holton, but he enjoyed putting the young man in his place. A good three day walk from the Wisconsin border to Madison would give Jack time to think and cool off. 

~x~X~x~ 

The Eagle 

Standing with his arms crossed over his middle, Fox watched the door to the surgery. His eyes appeared distant and his face was filled with anguish. He hadn't moved in over an hour. Before that, Fox had spent two hours pacing. Wade sat silently watching him. It warmed his heart to witness the love Fox had for Walter. His son had a devoted partner who would take good care of him. 

Wade finally stood and put his hand on his son-in-law's shoulder. "C'mon, Fox. Sit and I'll make you a cup of hot tea; watching that door isn't going to make the surgery go any faster." 

Fox sighed. "I just feel so helpless." 

"I know the feeling, but we have to trust Liz and Laura, and leave the rest in God's hands." 

"You sound like Paul," Fox said. 

Wade was slightly amused. "Just because I don't wear my religion on my sleeve like Paul, that doesn't mean I don't believe." 

"What are you saying, Dad?" Fox asked. 

"I'm a closet Catholic." 

"Don't worry ... I won't hold it against you." Fox smiled sadly as he sat on the chair next to Sonja. "My former partner is Catholic and her mother is deeply religious." 

"Didn't you mention that Scully's mother was a widow?" Sonja asked. 

"I guess I did," Fox said, his eyes drifting back to the operating room door. 

Sonja reached over and held Fox's hand. "She's sounds perfect for Paul." 

"Paul's a Southern Baptist and Maggie is Catholic," Fox said. "I'm not sure that combination would work." 

Wade shook his head and looked at his wife. "Dear, remember our conversation about match-making?" 

"That was when we lived in Chicago," Sonja said. "This is different ... Paul really needs a woman in his life." 

"I'm sure Paul can find one for himself," Wade said as he filled a mug with hot water and added a teabag. 

Speaking of the devil ... or saint, Paul and Mike walked into the clinic through the front door. The Doggett's farm was only three miles from there, off the main road that snaked through the valley. 

"How's Walter doing?" Paul asked. 

"He's been in surgery for over three hours," Wade said, trying not to show how truly worried he was -- he needed to be strong for Fox and Sonja. "I'm sure he'll be fine." 

"I've radioed my pastor and he's adding Walter to our prayer wheel," Paul said. 

"Thank you, Paul," Sonja said. 

"It's the least I can do," Paul said, taking a seat on the other side of Fox. "Fox, if you need anything, just ask." 

"Yours and Mike's presence here is more then enough." 

"Here you go, son," Wade said as he handed Fox the mug of tea. 

"Thanks." Fox cupped his hands around the mug, seeming to need the warmth. 

Wade realized it was getting cold in the room. The sun had set hours ago and with the snow there was a damp chill in the air. "I'm going to throw a couple more logs in the potbelly stove." 

The clinic had natural gas, forced air heat, but Sam kept his thermostat set at 55 degrees to save on energy costs. He offset the natural gas by using wood, to keep the place comfortable for him and the animals staying at the clinic. The vet's living quarters were upstairs. The clinic had once been an old farmhouse. Upstairs, Sam had a small eat in kitchen, living room, bathroom, and two bedrooms. Wade had had a quick look around at Sam's invitation. 

Wade looked around the room where they were waiting. It had old white and black speckled linoleum floor, with orange-molded, fiberglass, shell chairs -- the style that was popular back in the 1960s. Sitting on top of worn end tables were old magazines from before the aliens attacked and the latest copy of the Magic Mountain and the Holton Gazette. Wade thought the room could use a face-lift. In the pole barn they had a set of leather chairs with teakwood arms and legs, and matching end tables that would fit this space. The floor could be replaced with wood; it would retain the heat better in winter than linoleum. New paint on the walls, and possible a mural, Wade thought, as he looked at the long blank wall behind the chairs. 

Other than the mural, the room would take a couple of days to remodel, if Wade could recruit Simon and Melvin to help. Wade was still going to make a wood carving for Sam, but he felt better having something else they could do to repay him for helping to save Walter's life. 

The outside clinic door opened again and Joe and Naomi walked in. "How's Walter?" 

"He's still in surgery," Wade said. 

"What happened?" Naomi asked. "Blair couldn't tell us over the radio." 

"John wouldn't go into details either," Mike said. 

"We can't talk about it here," Wade said. They couldn't have Walter's shooting tied to the dead poacher. Sean had left to collect the body and fly it to Holton. He was going to say he found it on another part of the mountains; with the snowfall it would be impossible for the sheriff to find the exact location to collect evidence. 

Marita and Francesca entered the clinic wearing parkas and snow pants. They removed their snow goggles. 

"How is he?" Marita asked. 

"How did you two get here?" Sonja asked. 

"We came by snowmobile," Franny said. "The guys wanted to come but Ray and Stan are in no shape for a twenty mile snowmobile trip and Benton wouldn't leave them home alone." 

Wade looked down at Francesca. Her pregnancy was still not showing. So many little ones would be born in 2005, including Wade's next grandchild. He looked at Fox holding the mug of tea forgotten as he stared forlornly at the closed door to the operating room. Walter had to survive for Fox and their children. 

~x~X~x~ 

The Spider 

Liz made the last stitch to close the incision while Sam and Laura continued to monitor the patient's vitals. Walter's blood pressure and heart rate were well within a safe range. 

"Laura, Sam, do you want to finish?" Liz said, "I want to talk to Fox and Walter's parents." 

"Sure. I'm sure they're anxious to get in here to see him," Laura said as she grabbed the bottle of antiseptic while Sam retrieved the gauze and tape. 

Liz removed the latex gloves and washed her hands in the sink, and then looked up at her image in the mirror. She still wasn't used to seeing herself as she had been in her early forties. At fifty-seven, Liz never dreamed she'd have her red hair back, let alone be pregnant with her first child. At six months, the baby had become quite active. Her Mel loved placing his hand on her belly to feel their baby move. 

She looked back at Walter before opening the door. He had come through the surgery without any major complications. When a man had a strong will to live, surgery stood a better chance of a successful outcome. During her career in the Army, Liz had operated on soldiers -- strong men -- who had lost the will to continue living. She'd lost several of those cases -- some who were in better shape than Walter. 

The waiting room outside the surgery was packed, not like she had left it with only Fox, Wade, and Sonja. Everyone turned to look at her with expressions of hope and dread. 

Sean was back, and so was Liz's husband, along with Langly and Jimmy. 

"Walter came through the surgery without any complications," she announced. "He's going to require a lot of bed rest, but he should make a full recovery without any future health problems." 

The people let out a collective sigh of relief. 

Fox walked up to her with Wade and Sonja following behind him. "Can we go in and see him?" 

She smiled at Fox and gave him a quick hug. "Sure." Once Walter regained consciousness, Sean was going to fly Walter, Fox, and Laura home, while Liz drove home with Mel on their snowmobile. Laura would spend the rest of the night at Moonridge Lodge to oversee Walter's immediate recovery from the surgery then Liz would relieve her sometime tomorrow morning. The baby kicked. She placed her hand on her belly; the baby had been active for the past couple of hours. 

"How are you holding up?" Mel asked, taking hold of her hand. 

"I'm fine, and our baby is a night owl," Liz said before yawning. 

"If you're done here, I think I should get you home and into bed," Mel said as he wrapped his arms around her and gave her a peck on the cheek. 

Her Mel was the consummate gentleman. If there were a puddle in her path, he'd lay his coat over it. She smiled at him. "I need to wait until the anesthesia wears off and Walter is safely loaded aboard the helicopter." 

"Couldn't Laura handle it?" 

"Mel, I'm the lead surgeon," Liz said. "I have to make sure Walter comes out of anesthesia before I'll feel comfortable turning him over to Laura's care." 

"Okay, Liz, at least sit and put your feet up, I'll make you some hot tea while we wait," Mel said. 

~x~X~x~ 

The Bear 

Pain slithered down from Skinner's shoulder and spread out across his chest; his whole right side was throbbing. He had been drowsy and doped up since they had flown him by helicopter back home. His mind was fuzzy and he couldn't remember much about what had happened since he was shot. When he had been carried out of the hospital barely conscious, Skinner could have sworn he had heard dogs barking. Why would there be dogs in the hospital? Back home in bed, the painkiller had worn off. 

Skinner was alone in bed. He had nothing to distract him from the pain. Where was Fox? Oh yeah, Skinner remembered, Fox had been worried he'd hurt Skinner if he accidentally bumped him while they were sleeping. So Fox was sleeping in the next bedroom on one of the bunk beds with the twins. If Skinner hadn't been so out of it, he would have argued about the sleeping arrangements. The only light in the room came from the embers in the fireplace. It appeared, by the dull glow coming from the window, that the sun was rising. 

"Hey, you awake?" Fox's voice came from the doorway and he crossed into Skinner's field of view. 

With Skinner's mouth and throat dry, he had a hard time talking. "Water." 

Fox held up one of the kid's sippy cups. "Water and morphine sulfate tablets. Liz said you should have them every eight hours." 

Skinner raised an eyebrow, looking at the plastic, lid-covered, child's cup. 

"I thought this would be the easiest," Fox said as he knelt next to the bed. "I won't have to jostle you too much to raise your head high enough to drink." 

There were already two pillows under Skinner's head, so Fox only had to hold the cup to his husband's lips for him to sip the cool water. The water tasted great, and drinking from the cup wasn't as humiliating as Skinner thought it would be. Although drinking out of it was weird, it wasn't too much different than the lids Starbucks had used on their paper coffee cups. When his throat and mouth were suitably moist, Fox handed him the morphine tablet and gave him more water to swallow it down. 

"I want you sleeping in here with me," Skinner said. 

Fox leaned forward and kissed him tenderly on the lips. "In a few days, after the incision heals. But if it will make you feel better I'll sleep on the floor next to the bed." 

"I just need you near me." The pain was so bad it hurt when Skinner breathed; he hoped the morphine would hurry up and kick in. 

"You're awake. That's a good sign." Laura said, walking into the bedroom. She set the items she carried down on the dresser. "I'm going to change the dressings." 

"Have you been here all night?" Skinner asked. 

"Yes," Laura said. "Sean's going to fly me home as soon as Liz arrives." 

"Sean's still here?" 

"Yes." Fox smiled. "He slept on the sofa in the great room. Everyone was worried about you. I'm sure your dad is sitting on your mom to prevent her from coming over too early." 

Skinner chuckled then grimaced; that hurt. "Mom can be pretty forceful. Dad might not be strong enough to stop her." 

Fox gave his hand a squeeze then stood so Laura could change Skinner's bandages. "I'm going to start fixing breakfast," Fox said. "Liz wants you to get plenty of fluids and eat whatever you feel up to." 

"I'm not hungry," Skinner said as he started to succumb to the morphine haze. 

"You have to eat," Fox said. "I'm going to make you some oatmeal." 

Skinner hated being helpless, but if he had to be bedridden at least he was in good hands. Closing his eyes, Skinner drifted back to sleep. 

~x~X~x~ 

The Hawk 

Saturday, November 27, 2004 

Sheriff Moe Fife's radars had been up ever since Ranger Smith had dropped off the mutilated body of a hunter that he had found on federal land. Something didn't feel right. While Fife trusted Smith and his story seemed plausible, it just wasn't sitting well with him. The sheriff would let the town's coroner decide if there was anything about this man's death that would require further investigation. 

Fife and his deputies had enough problems with trying to keep criminal gangs out of town and maintaining order. His jurisdiction didn't reach outside of Holton, unless it involved a citizen from Holton, which this hunter was not. The small town of Holton had more than tripled in size in the three plus years since the alien attack, and new people were arriving weekly. At times being the sheriff of such a large, fast growing community could be a pain in the ass. Dealing with property disputes, murder, rape, assault, theft, domestic abuse was a far cry from the days before the alien attack when Holton's biggest crimes were jaywalking and littering. His police force had increased from four deputies to twenty, and he still wanted to hire a couple of more detectives. He'd hired some good men and women, all former police officers and detectives from Baltimore and D.C. who had survived the alien attack. 

At least the town's building boom was keeping people employed and out of trouble. Fife finished shaving and pulled on his shirt. He wore a suit to work and had his sheriff's badge tucked out of the breast pocket. Fife never liked uniforms, although he did require his deputies to wear them, but not his four detectives. 

The four-bedroom bungalow Fife owned was on what used to be the outskirts of town, before the building boom. He shared the house with three of his employees. Housing was still at a premium in Holton. Most of the citizens had taken in refugees from the cities into their homes. Sharing his home with three strangers took the sheriff some time to get used to. Fife had always lived alone. Being gay and the sheriff of a small town hadn't lent itself to having a male partner live with him -- not that he ever had one. From Fife's experience, small towns tended to be more conservative, so he hadn't wanted to risk his job and had remained deep in the closet. 

But that was then. Now there were three married male couples whose marriage certificates had been filed with Holton's city hall. It hadn't stirred up the fuss Fife had expected it to. So maybe the town's people were more open-minded than Fife had given them credit for or maybe at the time they were just overwhelmed by the death and destruction from the recent alien attack that three gay marriages hadn't fazed them. 

He'd met the married men and seen photos of them and their children in the Magic Mountain magazine. Before the alien attack, Fife had met Fox Mulder at the town's diner and had been attracted to him. With Mulder living on the mountain and away from prying eyes, the sheriff might have even pursued a relationship with him, if the aliens hadn't attacked. Now the man was married to Walter Skinner, so Mulder was out of bounds. Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg would stop into town occasionally to donate items they and the other men had salvaged from the ruins to the Salvation Army. Last time Blair had come with Alex Krycek, they said Jim had the flu when Fife had inquired about him. 

No one had any idea how these men were able to safely enter the ruins and make it out alive without being eaten by the giant rats. Even the military wouldn't send its soldiers into the ruins. They had them stationed outside at a safe distance. The soldiers would shoot any rats trying to leave. Because the men from Moonridge Lodge were willing to brave the rats, the town's disadvantaged had warm clothes and coats for the winter. Last spring Fife had met Walter Skinner and John Doggett; they were in town inquiring about the murder of the Kahns and had offered their assistance in investigating the killings. It was then the sheriff learned that the men were former FBI agents and that Blair and Jim were former police detectives. 

Fife entered the kitchen and found Deputy Danny O'Brien drinking tea while reading the Holton Gazette. O'Brien was a good-looking kid, but he wasn't Fife's type. 

"Morning, sheriff," Danny said. 

"Have Bayliss and Munch left already?" Fife asked as he grabbed a mug from the cabinet and plopped a teabag into it before reaching for the teakettle on the range. 

"Yeah, they were called in to investigate a stabbing death over on Grand Avenue." 

Fife shook his head and sighed, "That makes sixteen homicides this year and we still have a month to go." 

"At least this town isn't as bad as other parts of the country," Danny said as he continued to read the newspaper. "Hey, we might be getting a shipment of coffee beans delivered by Christmas." 

"I'd kill for a cup of coffee," Fife said. He'd tried the substitutes and found them lacking. 

"That would only add to our homicide rate," Danny quipped. "The army sent a team to Mexico and South America last spring; they were going to see about rebuilding those countries' coffee production. Unfortunately there weren't enough survivors to tend and harvest the beans, so the army has been doing it themselves and are hiring citizens from our country to go down there to work." 

Fife snorted. "You know there has to be some four-starred General who couldn't live without his daily cup of coffee who's behind this. Not that I'm complaining as long as they share with the rest of us." 

"Tim, John, and I are heading up to Seacouver's again next Friday; do you want to come?" Danny asked. 

"Sure." Fife enjoyed Seacouver's. He had been too busy to go with them last night. Their Friday night trips to Seacouver's were fast becoming a weekly tradition -- an enjoyable one. The Blues music helped them unwind after a hard week of work. Fife enjoyed talking to the owner. Joe Dawson was an interesting man who had traveled all over the world -- something Fife never had the chance to do. Even the food was exceptional. He hoped the chef had something good planned for Friday's dinner. While O'Brien and Bayliss were content to share a pizza, Fife and Munch preferred the gourmet meals that Chef Anton prepared. It was only Saturday so he had a whole week to wait. "I'm heading over to the morgue to see if Howard has the autopsy done on that hunter yet, and to find out more about this latest homicide." Fife had to decide if he should pursue the hunter's death. He hoped that it would turn out to be nothing more than a wild animal that killed him. 

~x~X~x~ 

The Panther 

Tuesday, November 30, 2004 

The house had been in chaos since Walter had been shot four days before. With Ellison and John physically unable to help with most of the outside chores and Fox tending to Walter 24/7 the bulk of the work had fallen on Alex and Blair. Fortunately Wade had been out daily to milk the cows in the morning and evening, and Sonja was helping with the cooking. 

Jeffrey was still sick with the flu. Langly had been over daily to nurse him back to health. 

Leaning against the hard porcelain, Ellison sank deeper into the hot water and relished its soothing warmth. His back had been killing him, his ankles were swollen, and his breasts were sore. Opening one eye, and stared down at his chest -- fuck he had breasts. Size C by the looks of them -- bigger than Blair's had been. They'd probably get even larger by the time his daughter was born. At least Ellison had the comfort of knowing that after he weaned his daughter his breasts would return to normal. 

As breasts went, they were pretty nice-looking, firm with large nipples -- better looking than his ex-wife's had been. 

Blair walked into the bathroom and started to strip -- he stank. A brown smear was on his cheek and his long hair was caked with the foul-smelling substance. He moved to climb into the bathtub, but Ellison stopped him. 

"Chief, take a shower first ... you smell pretty bad." 

"I tripped and fell in the compost pile," Blair grumbled as he walked over to the shower. "This was after I just dumped a load of waste from the barn." 

The smell was making Ellison's eyes water. "Why don't you dump your dirty clothes in the laundry room before you get in the shower?" 

Blair glared at him then sighed, "All right, I can't really blame this on you. I've just been so tired the last couple of days." He scooped up the manure-covered clothing and headed out of the bathroom. 

The laundry was across the hallway from their bedroom, so Blair wouldn't have to traipse through the house naked to reach it. 

Ellison listened to his husband's grumbling as Blair stomped into the laundry room then the sound of the washing machine as Blair loaded his clothes. Then Sonja's startled voice and Blair's feet, pounding on the hardwood floor as he ran back to the bedroom. 

Ellison was laughing so hard when his lover stormed into the bathroom that he had tears streaming down his face. 

"Walter's mother saw me naked," Blair said. 

"She's seen naked men before, so I'm sure she wasn't too scandalized," Ellison said, trying in vain to keep the sound of amusement out of his voice. 

"It's not funny, Jim," Blair said as he stepped into the shower. 

It wasn't long until Ellison heard Blair laughing. Then Blair's voice called over the shower spray. "Okay, it's funny. Can you add some scented oil to the bath water?" 

Ellison reached for one of the several bottles of scented oils on the ledge of the bathtub as Blair stepped out of the shower. His hair was clean and all brown smudges had been washed down the drain. 

"Are you feeling better?" Ellison asked as Blair stepped into the bathtub and sank down next to him. 

"I feel human again." Blair snuggled up next to Ellison. "Alex and I deserve a medal." 

"I'll have Wade make you one," Ellison said. 

"I'm having our next baby," Blair announced. 

"We'll flip a coin for that privilege." Ellison kissed the top of Blair's wet head. 

Blair looked up at him. "You hate being pregnant." 

"So did you." 

"I've forgotten what it was like carrying and giving birth to Joey," Blair said. "I only remember that we have a beautiful son." 

"You can have our next baby, and I'll have the one after you," Ellison said. He wasn't about to deny Blair the privilege of having their next child, not when his lover wanted to go through pregnancy again. After Joey, Ellison had doubted that Blair would ever be willing to have any more kids. As much as Ellison may complain, being pregnant hadn't been as bad as he had expected. 

"Thanks, big guy," Blair sighed. 

~x~X~x~ 

The Whale 

Wednesday, December 1, 2004 

It was still dark outside when Sonja walked the two miles to her son's house. She wanted to start breakfast before her son-in-law woke up. 

While she got along well with Fox, they still bumped heads in the kitchen. Sonja reached the house and entered through the vestibule. She took off her boots and left them on the wooden boot rack before stepping inside the house. 

Fox was just stepping out of the bedroom carrying a plastic urinal. He was barefoot and dressed in flannel pajamas. "Hi, Mom, you're here early." 

"I couldn't sleep so I thought I'd come over and start baking bread for the day," she said, hanging up her coat on the hook by the back door. "How's Walter doing?" 

"He had a rough night." Fox stood outside the bathroom door with the urinal. "Let me empty this and we can talk over coffee." 

Sonja walked into the kitchen and retrieved two coffee mugs from the cabinet. There was a full pot of coffee percolating on the stove. Fox must have just made it. She filled the mugs and added cream and sugar to hers as Fox joined her in the kitchen. 

"Walter is running a slight fever," Fox said. "And the morphine is wearing off a couple of hours before his next dosage is due." 

"Have you radioed Liz?" Sonja asked. "Maybe she can up the dosage." 

"Walter doesn't want to take more than he's currently taking." Fox took a sip from the coffee mug. "He's worried about becoming addicted." 

Sonja frowned. She'd forgotten about that. "My son had a slight problem with morphine addiction after he was wounded in Vietnam." 

"He never mentioned it," Fox said, clearly worried. "Maybe Liz should put him on another type of pain killer." 

"Why don't you go radio her?" Sonja said. 

"Frohike would kill me if I disturbed her this early," Fox said. "I'll radio her in a couple of hours, after I give Walter a sponge bath. I'm hoping it will lower his temperature." 

"Have you fed him yet?" Sonja wanted so badly to be the one tending to her son's needs, but Wade was right she had to let Fox take care of his husband, and not interfere unless asked. 

"He had Jell-o and chicken broth for dinner last night," Fox said. "I want to see if I can get him to eat some milk toast for breakfast." 

"Why don't you go give Walter his bath and I'll make the milk toast for you." 

"Grandma!" Aviva and Chloe called excitedly as they stood in their bedroom doorway, then they ran into the kitchen. 

Sonja knelt and hugged them. 

"Would you mind taking care of them?" Fox asked. "They usually need to use their potty chair when they get up in the morning." 

"You don't even have to ask, it is my pleasure." Sonja smiled. Taking care of her grandchildren was one of the joys in her life. She held out her hands to them. "C'mon, girls, grandma will take you to the bathroom then get you dressed for the day." 

In the bathroom she removed Aviva's one-piece sleeper. The toddler's hair was a tangled mess of curls. Walter had similar curly black hair as a boy. Aviva used the potty chair while Sonja undressed Chloe. The hamper was full. Sonja would put a load into the washing machine after she dressed the twins. She chuckled, remembering surprising Blair in the laundry room yesterday. 

The day before, she'd spoken to West over the radio and told him about Walter being shot. West was clearly upset by the news. He, Maria, and Vera were planning to fly down this summer for vacation. Her oldest son wanted to fly down immediately in case Walter needed him, but Sonja convinced West to stay in Alaska. She didn't want to chance him bringing Maria. The idea of them being snowed in together was just too much for Sonja to contemplate. She scooped the twins up in her arms and carried them back to their bedroom. When she passed her son's bedroom she peeked through the crack in the door. Fox was tenderly washing her son. Walter was in good hands and it warmed her heart. 

~x~X~x~ 

The Fox 

Thursday, December 2, 2004 

Almost a week had passed since Walter had been shot, and he and Mulder were pleased that they were able to sleep in the same bed again. Mulder knew if he rocked the mattress by moving, it caused Walter pain, something his lover endured stoically. The alternative was for Mulder to return to sleeping on the floor, but Walter had told him in no uncertain terms that he wanted Mulder in bed sleeping next to him. So Mulder tried not to move too much, and even tried not to breathe too deeply. 

Lying motionless on his right side facing Walter, Mulder rested a hand under Walter's flannel pajama top on his warm belly while staring at his lover's profile. The man was extremely handsome. Mulder could stare at him for hours and not get bored. Such a finely sculptured face, firm jaw, noble nose, and high brow made Mulder wonder how he could have ever been attracted to women. 

Walter murmured in his sleep. He was still quite weak and on strong medications; he spent most of his time sleeping. 

Liz had changed Walter's pain meds yesterday. Walter was still running a fever and that concerned her. She was worried that an infection would hinder Walter's recovery. 

The children had been taking Walter's condition in stride, but Connor was starting to get upset that his papa couldn't get out of bed and play with him. The pair shared a strong bond that only a mother and child could share. 

"Fox, you awake?" Walter turned his head and looked into Mulder's eyes. 

"Yeah, do you need anything?" 

"I need to take a leak," Walter said. 

"I'll get the urinal," Mulder said. He threw off the covers and slid out of bed. The room was chilly, so he put another log on the embers before retrieving the plastic urinal. 

Pulling down the blankets, he spread the fly on Walter's pajama bottoms and pulled out his penis then directed it into the container. Walter sighed as he emptied his bladder. 

"Would you like me to bring you back something to eat or drink?" Mulder asked as he tucked Walter back into his pajamas. 

"Some cold water," Walter said tiredly. 

"I'll be right back with it," Mulder said as he carried the full urinal out of the bedroom. He emptied it in the toilet then rinsed it out in the sink. After washing his hands, Mulder carried the container out of the bathroom and set it on the kitchen counter and he went to fill a sippy cup at the sink. One thing about living in the mountains, the spring water was the cleanest and most refreshing to be had anywhere in the country. It was one of the reason's Seacouver's beers tasted so delicious. 

Mulder would have to go almost a year before he could have a brew again. It was one part of pregnancy that really sucked. He carried the water and empty urinal back into the bedroom. The urinal he placed on the dresser, high enough so that the children couldn't reach it when they came into the room to play. 

Walter had fallen back to sleep. 

Mulder decided that his lover needed water more than sleep so he gently woke him. 

"God, I hate being helpless," Walter grumbled. 

"I know, sweetheart. I'd let you sleep but we don't have an IV to provide you with fluids," Mulder said as he placed the cup against Walter's lips. "You need plenty of water to get better." He used his other hand to brush over Walter's forehead. His lover was burning up. Mulder would have to get a cold washcloth to soothe Walter's brow and remove his flannel pajamas. 

Walter finished drinking the water then lay back and looked up at Mulder with large, soulful, dark eyes. It tore at Mulder's heart seeing his lover so sad. 

Mulder kissed his brow. "This summer why don't we take a week's vacation away from the kids?" 

Walter smiled. "This summer you'll be nursing our new baby." 

"Yeah ... right." Mulder frowned then smiled. "I'll fill a few bottles of breast milk for your mom, and then we can spend a Friday and Saturday at Seacouver in their Yokohama room." 

"I have a better idea," Walter said. His eyes sparkled with life as he looked at Mulder. "When I'm out of this bed, we'll make reservations with Joe for whatever room is available and we'll spend Wednesday through Saturday making love and enjoying Chef Anton's gourmet meals." 

"I can't wait," Mulder said then leaned down and brushed his lips over Walter's. 

~x~X~x~ 

The Hawk 

Friday, December 3, 2004 

Seacouver's was packed. Then it had been packed since Fife's first trip to the place in October. He, Bayliss, O'Brien, and Munch were at the bar waiting for their table to be ready. Joe Dawson was tending bar and a Blues band was on stage. While Fife's companions drank the house ale, he sampled a fine brandy. Winter always had him in the mood for either a brandy or cognac. A cigar would go really nicely, there was a cigar room out back but Fife wasn't in the mood to leave his friends ... maybe after dinner. 

"Hey, Mike!" Joe called as a man wearing faded blue jeans and a leather jacket walked through the doors into the bar. 

Fife recognized him as, Mike Doggett, the son of the farmer who'd bought the Redmond farm. Paul Doggett was a member of the church Fife belonged to. 

"How's it going, Joe?" Mike said as he squeezed his way up to the bar. 

"Busy," Joe said. "Where's your Dad?" 

"He's visiting Moonridge Lodge," Mike said. "He's been worrying about Walter." 

Fife's ears perked up. Walter would be Walter Skinner, the former Assistant Director of the FBI. The sheriff had made it his business to learn all he could about the people living on the mountain and in the valley, since he had convinced the town council to extend his jurisdiction to include this area. Moonridge Lodge was the name of the small mountain farm where Walter Skinner lived with five other men and their children. Fife had never visited the farm, but he had been meaning to stop in on them and the other homes on that section of mountain. He just never got around to it. 

"I talked to Fox over the radio this morning," Joe said. "He said Walter was mending." 

"My Dad was bringing them a pot of homemade chili." Mike frowned. "I hope it doesn't give Walter heartburn or upset his stomach; you know Daddy's chili can be pretty hot." 

"I can't imagine a little chili would hurt him," Joe said as he filled a mug with ale from the tap and handed it to Mike. "It's not as if he was shot in the gut." 

"I'm sure Fox will decide what's best for him," Mike said, taking a sip of beer. 

"Excuse me," Fife said. "Are you talking about Walter Skinner?" 

"Aw, yes," Mike said, looking suddenly nervous. 

"You mentioned that he was shot," Fife said as he looked between Joe and Mike. "May I ask what happened?" 

"Hunting accident," Joe said. 

"I see." Fife took a sip of brandy as he leaned against the bar. "When and how did it happen?" 

"He was deer hunting with some friends last Friday and one of their rifles accidentally went off," Joe said. "Walter was hit in the shoulder." 

"Who's rifle?" Fife asked. The story sounded suspicious; all of the men on that section of mountain were not amateurs when it came to firearms. 

"I don't know," Joe said. 

"Do you think Fox Mulder would know?" Fife asked. 

Munch, who was sitting on a bar stool next to Fife, piped in, "The FBI had an agent named Fox Mulder. I wonder if he's the same man?" 

Bayliss suddenly took an interest in their conversation. "C'mon, it has to be, there can't possibly be two men on this planet with that name." 

"It's the same man," Fife confirmed. Bayliss and Munch had been living in Holton for less than a year and hadn't had time to acquaint themselves with the people living outside of town. "His husband, the man who was shot, is Walter Skinner, a former Assistant Director at the FBI." 

"They're married to each other?" Munch raised an eyebrow. 

Bayliss jumped in, "So Mulder and Skinner are two of the married male couples that Emma has been griping about." He then mimicked the voice of an old woman, "Men marrying men are making a mockery of the institution of marriage." 

Fife smiled. It was a pretty good impression of their office secretary, Emma Grump. Since he'd given Emma a negative performance review, she had been keeping her opinions to herself when Fife was around, so the Sheriff hadn't heard her latest bitching. The woman was in her sixties and had been the secretary of the last three sheriffs, so Fife had felt an obligation to keep her on. While she was efficient at her job, she was very judgmental and a nonstop gossip -- something that wasn't good in a police station. 

Emma was a widow and currently had her eyes on the most eligible bachelor around, Paul Doggett, even though his son was one of the men whom Emma objected to. 

All of the unattached ladies in their congregation were lined up for the conquest of the single farmer. Sunday services had become entertaining as the women vied for Paul's attention. Fife hadn't seen so many women wearing their finest clothing and jewelry to church in a long time. Paul didn't know it, but he was doing Fife a big favor; until the man had bought the large Redmond farm, Fife had been the most eligible bachelor in town. 

"I've been meaning to visit Moonridge Lodge to thank the men for all they've done for Holton's disadvantaged," Fife said. "Maybe I'll stop out tomorrow and see how Mr. Skinner is doing." 

"Unless you have a snowmobile, you won't be able to visit them until the snow melts," Joe said. "There's a good four feet of snow covering the paths and another storm on the way." 

"That shouldn't be a problem; I have a couple of snowmobiles," Fife said. He used to go snowmobiling every winter, but he hadn't used them for recreation in over three years. 

"Mind if Tim and I come along?" Munch asked. 

"Nope," Fife said, "You and Tim need to get familiar with these parts." 

"Moe, your table is ready," Naomi said as she waddled into the bar from the dining room. 

"Thank you, Naomi," Fife said. "When is your baby due?" 

"Early January," she said as they followed her into the dining room to a nice, square, four-person table near the fireplace. 

After he was seated Fife asked, "So what does Chef Anton have on the menu tonight?" 

Naomi directed their attention to the blackboard hanging outside the open kitchen. The menu was handwritten in chalk each day. "This evening's entrees are beef bourguignonne -- beef sauted in pork fat with pearl onions and mushrooms in a burgundy wine sauce with mashed potatoes." 

"I think I'll skip the pizza tonight," Danny said. 

"You're going to enjoy it; the bourguignonne is delicious," Naomi said then continued enthusiastically. "We also have a seafood chowder pot pie. Sean was able to trade for some fresh crab, lobster, and shrimp from a fishing village forty miles from the Boston ruins. He flew there Wednesday morning and was back with the seafood in the afternoon. We might now have a reliable source for fresh seafood for the restaurant. Chef Anton is thrilled." 

Munch sighed. 

Fife knew the detective was thinking about The Waterfront, the place Munch, Bayliss, and another detective had owned back in Baltimore. 

Naomi continued, "The final entre is two crispy skinned duck breasts served with polenta, beetroot, and fennel. And there are fresh pumpkin and cranberry-apple pies for dessert." She looked around the table. "While you make up your minds can I get you something to drink? How about a carafe of the house wine?" 

"I'll have another Seacouver's pale ale," Danny said. 

"I'm going to have the seafood pot pie," Munch said. "So, does anyone want to share a carafe of the house's white with me?" 

"I'll share," Fife said. "I'm going with the duck." 

"Just water for me," Bayliss said. "I'm the designated driver tonight, and I had my limit in the bar." 

"We have a couple of rooms still available at the inn if you guys want to stay the night, gratis," Naomi said. 

"John snores," Bayliss complained. 

"I do not snore," Munch said. "If we stay, you can share a room with Danny, Moe and I will share the other room." 

Oh great, Fife thought, out of the three of them, he did not want to share a bedroom with John. The sheriff had been attracted to the man since the two former Baltimore detectives had first showed up in Holton looking for work. Living in a large four-bedroom house made it easy to avoid any direct physical contact. Fife could survive on his fantasies, but sleeping in the same bed with John would be torturous. 

"Deal," Bayliss said. "Naomi, bring us three wineglasses." 

After Naomi headed back to the bar, Munch turned to Fife. "So what's going on with this Moonridge Lodge place we're going to tomorrow?" 

"It's the people who are living there on that section of mountain who have my interest," Fife said. "In that area we have three former FBI agents, two former Cascade police detectives, a former Cascade police chief, a CIA agent, two former Chicago police detectives, a Canadian Mountie, along with three men who used to publish The Lone Gunman conspiracy magazine in D.C. There are also two medical doctors -- one who was a Colonel in the U.S. Army. Before the alien attack, only Laura Nightingale and Fox Mulder were living on that section of mountain. He bought Old Man Peterson's place and thousands of acres of forest land." 

Munch chuckled. "So the Lone Gunmen are living on the mountain?" 

"You know them?" The Sheriff had known Frohike for over twenty-years, Fife had been a deputy at the time. Frohike would stop into town to pick up supplies for his uncle on the mountain. The first time Fife had met Frohike was when he pulled him over for speeding. 

"In the late '80s, I had arrested them," Munch said. "This was before they started publishing their rag. They had concocted some wild story about the government distributing mind-altering drugs in asthma inhalers. It was also the same time I met Fox Mulder. He had been exposed to some hallucinogen and had to be kept in five-point restraints until the drug wore off. He kept screaming about space aliens. God those were some strange times." 

"You do know that Mulder was the head of a department at the FBI that invested alien abductions and the paranormal?" Fife said. "Ranger Smith told me about Mulder when he first moved to the mountains. Sean had said that Mulder had recently been abducted and he was looking for a place to put his life back together. Sean had been an active member in the UFO community and he knew all about Mulder by the agent's reputation." 

Munch shook his head in wonder. "Four years ago, I would have said the FBI having such a department was sheer lunacy. Who'd have thought that aliens were real?" 

Naomi was back with their wine, Danny's ale, and a basket of fresh baked rolls and butter. 

"Thanks, Naomi," Fife said as she filled his wineglass. "How is your son-in-law doing? Blair had mentioned when he was in town last that Jim had been sick?" 

"Jim's still under the weather, but it's nothing serious," she said. "He and Blair are in the process of adopting another baby." 

"Oh." Fife looked up at her. "They already have a little boy don't they?" 

"Yes, but they have plenty of room and they both love children," Naomi said, pulling out a small notepad. "What can I get you?" 

They each told her what they wanted and Naomi headed back to the kitchen. The restaurant had three waitresses, a waiter, and a busboy. Naomi usually just performed the hostess duties. Fife noticed that only two waitresses seemed to be working. 

"I take it Blair's her son and that he's married to Jim?" Bayliss asked. 

"Yes." Fife was amused. "Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg are the former Cascade detectives I mentioned earlier. They both live at Moonridge Lodge, along with John Doggett who is Paul Doggett's son." The Sheriff was aware that everyone at the table knew who Paul Doggett was -- the man came into town on a regular basis. "John Doggett was an FBI agent and he is also a former NYPD officer. John is married to Alex Krycek the former CIA agent." 

"I take it Alex Krycek is a man," Munch said. "So how does the Canadian Mountie fit into the picture?" 

"The Mountie and his two lovers, Ray Vecchio and Stan Kowalski are the two former Chicago police detectives, are living on a small piece of land known as Wolf's Peak. Ray's sister, Francesca Vecchio lives with them along with another woman, Marita. I haven't been able to find out her last name." 

"Maybe she's like Cher and only has one," Bayliss said. "Are the two women a couple?" 

"No, Francesca is dating Sean," Fife said. "Sean seems pretty enamored with her." 

"What about Byers, Frohike, and Langly?" Munch asked. "Are they doing each other?" 

Fife chuckled. "No. John Byers is married to Doctor Laura Nightingale, Melvin Frohike is married to Colonel Liz Nash, M.D., and Richard Langly is currently available if you're interested." 

Munch gave Fife a smoldering look and said, "He's not my type." 

That look started a fire burning in Fife's groin, and the Sheriff wondered if Munch had just made a pass at him. The man was hard to read, but either way it was going to be a tough night. 

"So who else lives in their area?" Bayliss asked. 

Fife turned his attention to Bayliss and away from Munch. "There is Simon Banks the former Cascade chief of police. He is married to Jin Banks and they have three children, one each from former marriages and one together. Then there are Wade and Sonja Skinner, Walter Skinner's parents, and James Bond who is staying with the Frohikes and Langly." 

"James Bond?" Munch said. "Oh C'mon, Moe! Now you're yanking my chain!" 

"No that's really his name," Fife said as the busboy carried a large tray with their food over to the table. 

He placed it on a collapsible tray rack as Naomi walked over. She retrieved the plates from the tray and set it in front of them. 

"Thank you, Naomi," Fife and the others said. 

"I hope you enjoy your meal," she said as MacLeod walked over to her. 

"I'm here to relieve you," MacLeod said. "Joe wants you to go upstairs and rest." 

"Thanks, Mac," Naomi said. "I promised Moe, John, Tim, and Danny, the Liverpool and Yokohama suites for the night, so can you get the keys for them?" 

"No problem." MacLeod turned to the table. "How are things in Holton, Sheriff?" 

"Fine. Cold temperatures and snow are having a positive affect on the crime rate," Fife said, picking up a knife to cut the duck breast. "You and Adam should drive down with your babies. We have the town decorated for Christmas and even have a North Pole village with Santa Claus. You can have their pictures taken with him." 

"Thanks for the info, we'll do that," MacLeod said. "I better get those room keys and mark it in the book." 

The men went back to eating and talking. Later they'd go back to the bar to listen to music before turning in for the night. 

~x~X~x~ 

The Bear 

Lying with his head and shoulders propped up by three pillows; Skinner looked affectionately down at his son. Connor was laying beside him on the bed reading a book to him. Well, trying to read -- Skinner still had to help out with the "big" words, which in his doped-up state wasn't easy. Especially when the book was 'There's An Orangutan in My Bathtub.' His son had insisted on helping Fox take care of him. 

"Papa, what this word?" Connor asked, pointing to a word on the page, and looking up at Skinner with large, brown eyes. 

"Impossible," Skinner said as he brushed Connor's long bangs out of his eyes. "You need a haircut." 

"I want a ponytail like Daddy," Connor said. 

"Let's get Grandma to at least trim your bangs." Skinner wasn't up to arguing with his son; he was having a hard enough time staying awake. 

This year he was going to miss taking the children on their annual search for the family Christmas tree. So were Jim and John. Fox, Alex, and Blair would have to take the children without them. 

Fox walked into the bedroom, carrying a tray. "I made you some chicken broth and rice pudding." 

"Are our girls asleep?" Skinner asked. Aviva and Chloe had come to say goodnight a half hour ago. 

"Yes. And Connor should be heading up to bed; Joey and Gwen are already tucked in." 

"But I'm reading to Papa," Connor complained. 

"You can finish reading to Papa while I feed him," Fox said. "Then it's up to bed." 

Skinner enjoyed how easily Fox worked out that compromise. Connor continued reading while Skinner drank the broth from a mug. The broth was salty but otherwise flavorless. 

After Connor had finished the book, he closed it and curled up next to his papa. Skinner smiled at him. 

"Joe radioed," Fox said, picking up the book and placing it on the coffee table. 

"What about?" Skinner hoped it wasn't bad news, but radioing this late in the evening never was good. 

"Sheriff Fife and a couple of his detectives are going to be stopping out tomorrow," Fox said. "They heard you'd been shot and wanted to find out the details." 

"We're outside of their jurisdiction." 

"It doesn't matter," Fox said. "They aren't coming here on official business, but to check on how you're doing and to snoop around." 

"What should we do?" Skinner asked. 

"Let them snoop," Fox said. "They're not going to find anything. Besides I like Sheriff Fife and I don't believe he has a malicious bone in his body." 

"I agree. He's a good man," Skinner said, "but what about his detectives?" 

"I have a vague memory of meeting John Munch back in 1989," Fox said. 

"Vague with your memory?" 

"I was in a hospital bed in five-point restraints at the time," Fox said. "Tim Bayliss I have no idea who he is but I'm willing to trust Fife's judgment in hiring them." 

"John and Jim are going to have to disappear tomorrow," Skinner said. 

"They can spend the day at your parent's, and if by some fluke Holton's finest should show up at your folk's place, John and Jim can disappear into the root cellar." 

"Okay, sounds like a plan," Skinner said. "Mom's started her Christmas baking, I'm sure John and Jim will have a pleasant time over there." 

Fox looked down at their son who had fallen asleep curled up next to his Papa. "I'll put Connor's pajamas on and he can sleep with us tonight." 

Skinner smiled. Regardless of his present condition, he was happy with his life and didn't care if their next child was a boy or a girl. He just wanted another child to take care of and love. 

~x~X~x~ 

The Dog 

Doggett had been worried about his husband for the past week. "C'mon, Alex, stop being a total asshole and talk to me." 

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm all right?" Alex shot back. 

"You're not all right! You've been quiet and moody all week." 

"Fuck off, John. I'm fine." Alex walked over to the window and stared out into the darkness. 

"You're no longer a cold-blooded killer." 

"You don't know me!" Alex snapped. 

"Fuck you, Alex! I know you better than you know yourself." Doggett walked over to the window and grabbed his lover by the shoulders and spun him around to face him. "You're mine, Alex Krycek, and I'm not going to allow you crawl inside yourself! Talk to me, dammit!" 

"What do you want me to say? Do you want me to say that I regret ripping out that bastard's throat that shot Walter? Because I don't and would do it again in a heart beat. So you're wrong -- I'm still a cold-blooded killer." 

"There was nothing cold-blooded about what you did. You were defending our family from a real cold-blooded killer." Doggett hugged Alex as closely as he could with his big belly in the way. He whispered in his ear, "I'm just so scared it could have been you who'd been targeted and shot or one of the children. We have to be more careful." 

Alex sighed and melted into Doggett's embrace. "I thought you were judging me on my actions. I'm so worried that I might fuck this up and lose you." 

"I'd never judge you," Doggett said. "You did the right thing killing, that man. I would have done the same." 

"I've killed people as part of my job. Most of the people I killed deserved to be put down," Alex said. "The only one I've regretted was Melissa Scully. Although I wasn't the trigger man, I should have prevented Luis from killing her ... it just happened so fast." Alex looked into Doggett's eyes. "I don't regret killing Bill Mulder." 

Doggett wished he knew more about the type of man Bill Mulder had been. At times Fox would talk fondly about him, remembering better days from his childhood before everything went terribly wrong. Doggett couldn't imagine his father being cold and unapproachable, no more than he could imagine treating his children in such a cold-detached manner. How could a man not have anything but love for his children? 

"What was your father like?" Doggett asked, knowing that his lover had been raised solely by his grandparents since he was seven. They had been smuggled out of the Soviet Union for a large sum of money paid to the Russian mob. His grandfather died when Alex was nine, leaving only his grandmother to raise him in a foreign country. Doggett never felt comfortable asking his lover about his parents. 

"My father was a warm, kind man. The last time I saw him was when he hugged me goodbye back in Russia, his last words to me were: Sasha, be brave and strong for your grandparents, and do your studies. Momma and I will join you in America as soon as we are able." Krycek's expression turned sad. "They never did, and I never found out what happened to them. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get past the wall -- the bureaucracy. It was one of the reasons I applied at the CIA. I wanted to gain access to any information I could get my hands on about my parents. They were Russian scientists. I ended up getting snared by dark forces from both countries -- the conspiracy -- the web of deception." 

"I'm sorry, Alex," Doggett said. "It must be difficult not knowing what happened to them." 

"I always had hope that one day I'd find them," Alex said. "No longer, though. The alien attack destroyed any hope of that." 

~x~X~x~ 

The Hawk 

Fife fiddled with the room key, trying to get it into the lock. He'd had too much to drink and Munch was standing too close. Bayliss and O'Brien had already disappeared inside the Yokohama suite. 

"Do you think a little lube will help it slip in," Munch said softly into his ear. 

Startled, Fife dropped the key and they both reached for it bumping their heads together. 

"Ouch." Fife stood, rubbing his head. 

Munch scooped up the key and opened the door with a flourish. "After you." 

Fife glared at him as he walked into the suite, embarrassed that his hormones were getting the better of him. He prayed that he'd get through this night without embarrassing himself further. 

"I've never had breakfast at Seacouver's," Munch said as he closed and locked the door. "I heard that Chef Anton makes some gourmet omelets." 

"We should head back to Holton after breakfast to collect my snowmobiles," Fife said as he started to strip down to his underwear. 

"Cool!" Munch said, looking into the bathroom as he folded his pants. "We have a Jacuzzi large enough for two..." 

That did it! Fife turned and looked Munch in the eyes. "John, are you coming on to me?" 

"It took you long enough to figure it out," Munch said. "I've been coming onto you for the past two months." 

"You're not gay," Fife said. "You were married more than once." 

"Why do you think my marriages never worked out?" Munch finished removing his clothes down to his briefs. 

"What do you want from me?" Fife asked. 

"The same thing you want, Moe," Munch said as he crossed the floor and stood in front of Fife. "Companionship ... sex ... love." 

"Why would you think I'd want to have sex with you or any other man?" Fife had been deep in the closet from decades; he couldn't believe anyone had figured out his secret. 

Leaning forward, Munch kissed Fife long and hard. The Sheriff melted under the other man's onslaught and soon found he was kissing Munch back. Fife felt his boxers pulled down and fingers wrapped around his erection; slowly jerking him off while Munch's tongue explored his mouth. Other than one time in his early twenties, Fife had never been touched by another man in this manner. He fantasized about it, but never gave into his fantasies. Maybe if he had grown up in another time or place, Fife would have felt more comfortable about his sexuality. When the sheriff orgasmed he was surprised by force of it, even seeing stars as he collapsed against Munch. 

Catching his breath with Munch holding him in a tight embrace, Fife asked, "How did you know?" 

"If you wanted it to remain a secret then you should never have invited a trained detective to move in with you," Munch said. "C'mon let's get washed up." 

"Does Bayliss know?" 

"Oh yeah, Tim has a finely-tuned gaydar." Munch handed Fife a washcloth then the detective stripped off his briefs wet with come; both his own and the sheriff's. 

"I've never done this before," Fife said, washing the come from his groin. He'd thought he'd be embarrassed but Munch made him feel relaxed. 

"I'd like to pursue a relationship with you," Munch said. "But I'm not going to push you. You'll have to decide what you want." 

"Let me think about it," Fife said. 

"I hope these are dry by the morning," Munch said as he washed his briefs in the sink. "I hate going commando." 

Fife walked into the bedroom and retrieved his boxers from the floor and pulled them on. "What side do you want?" 

"The left if that's all right by you," Munch said from the bathroom. 

"That's fine." Fife walked around to the right hand side of the bed and pulled down the covers and slipped between the cool sheets. John had given him a lot to think about. 

~x~X~x~ 

The Albatross 

Somewhere during the night they'd both ended up in the center of the bed. Munch lay awake watching Moe sleep. The man lost that harried look in his sleep. The job of Sheriff had been weighing heavily upon him. Even during the eight months that Munch and Bayliss had been living in Holton, they'd noticed an increase in the crime rate as more people arrived looking for a place to settle. Along with the influx of honest, law-abiding people there were also troublemakers and the type looking to take advantage of the situation. 

Keeping abreast of what was happening in all parts of Holton kept Moe busy 24/7 most of the time. The Sheriff was a man who took his responsibilities and duties seriously -- maybe too seriously in Munch's opinion. It was because of his dedication and no nonsense approach to law enforcement that Holton hadn't fallen into anarchy like so many other small towns and cities. Serious troublemakers were run out of town with a warning from the Sheriff that they'd be arrested and thrown in jail if they showed their faces back in Holton. Moe's frontier justice kept the law-abiding citizens safe and stopped those who might have been thinking of causing trouble but didn't want to take the chance of being kicked out of town. 

Before the alien attack, such tactics by the Sheriff would have gotten him and the town of Holton sued. Not any more; the mayor and the town council backed Moe up one hundred percent. Most of their ancestors had built the town and they weren't about to see it taken over by criminals and gangsters. It was one of the reasons they approved the hiring of so many new police officers and the building of a new police station and jail. 

Holton's growing reputation as a safe place to raise a family had brought even more people looking to settle there. 

Moe opened his eyes and stared at Munch. The Sheriff didn't attempt to move away. "For a moment, I thought last night had been a dream." 

"Did you sleep well?" Munch asked, concerned. 

"Actually, last night was the best night's sleep I've had in over three years." 

"Don't you have a problem with what we did last night?" Munch wanted to gauge Moe; it was hard to tell how someone who'd been in the closet as long as him would react. 

"I thought that I would, but I don't." Moe looked at him. "It's strange but it seemed to have relieved a lot of my stress." 

Munch grinned. "Then do you want to try out that Jacuzzi before we head down for breakfast?" 

Moe nodded. "What time is it?" 

"Seven o'clock. The dining room doesn't open until eight." 

"After we eat, we can drive back to Holton to retrieve my snowmobiles," Moe said. "We should be able to make it out to Moonridge Lodge by noon. Then we can stop back here for a couple of pizzas to go." 

Munch bent down and kissed him. "No more planning for the rest of the weekend. You need a vacation." 

After sharing a bath and lots of caresses, they dressed and walked down the hall and knocked on the door to the room Bayliss and O'Brien were sharing. 

O'Brien answered the door fully dressed. "Tim's still sleeping." 

"Let him sleep," Munch said. "If he's not up by the time we head back to Holton for the snowmobiles then we'll pick him up here before heading to this Moonridge Lodge place." 

The three of them headed down to breakfast. 

Munch thought the dining room looked remarkably different with the sun pouring in through the windows than it did in the evening with artificial light. Only two tables were occupied for breakfast. Moe led the way to a table. 

Chef Anton came out of the kitchen to take their order. 

"Anton, do you always cook breakfast, lunch, and dinner?" Moe asked. 

"It's only four days a week and beside I enjoy it." The chef smiled. "Where else can I plan my own meals with an abundant supply of fresh produce in the summer and fall? Joe wants to build a couple of greenhouses on the property so we can have fresh lettuce and tomatoes for salads in the winter. He's also thinking about adding another floor onto Seacouver's with more rooms for the inn and an apartment for me and three other employees." 

"Joe seems to look out for his employees," Moe said. "He must be a good man to work for." 

"He is," Anton confirmed. "I could stand here and chat all morning but I'm guessing you want breakfast." 

"You have that right," Munch muttered. 

The chef ignored him. "This morning, I have three omelet specials. A Spanish omelet with potatoes and onions, a brie cheese and shrimp omelet, and a crab meat omelet with a hollandaise sauce, or you might prefer potato pancakes with a side of hickory smoked bacon. The omelets come with a side of toast." 

"I'll have the pancakes," Moe said. 

"Same for me," Munch said. 

"I want the Spanish omelet," O'Brien said. 

Munch looked over at Moe; for once the man looked relaxed. Hopefully he wouldn't have second thoughts; the former Baltimore detective sensed that Moe needed someone in his life to lean on, and Munch wanted to be that someone. 

~x~X~x~ 

The Bat 

Dressed in knee high mukluks, a hooded parka, goggles, insulated gloves, and with a scarf wrapped around his neck, mouth and nose, Bayliss was still freezing by the time they drove their snowmobiles into the front yard of Moonridge Lodge. He hadn't known what to expect but he had not been prepared for the size of this log home with its massive fireplace and large picture windows and porch. Two little boys and a girl appeared in the window and a middle-aged woman stood behind them. 

Munch and Fife were already heading up to the front door, and Bayliss hurried to catch up to them. Out back, behind the home, the detective could hear the sound of a chainsaw. The front door opened and an extremely good-looking man with hazel eyes ushered them in. 

"Come in," the man said. "Joe radioed that you were stopping out." He closed the door after they were inside. 

Bayliss was shivering as he removed the goggles and gloves, shoving them in the deep pockets of the parka. 

"Mr. Mulder, it's a pleasure to see you again," Fife said, holding out his hand to Mulder. "After your husband is on his feet again, you both should come down to Holton; I'd like to invite you to dinner. You can see the progress being made on the new police station." 

"It's nice to see you again, Sheriff, and thanks for the invite. I'll talk to Walter about it, I'm pretty sure he'd be interested," Mulder said as he shook Fife's hand. "You can leave your boots on the mat next to the door, and I'll hang your coats in the closet." 

"These are my new detectives, Tim Bayliss and John Munch," Fife said, removing his boots. "I think you may have met John in the past, he and Tim are former Baltimore PD homicide detectives." 

"It's been about fifteen years," Mulder said as he shook Munch's hand. 

"People are supposed to age in fifteen years," Munch commented. 

Bayliss shook Mulder's hand, thinking the former FBI agent looked to be in his late twenties. 

Mulder took Bayliss' parka and the other men's coats. The two detectives bent to remove their boots, while Mulder went to hang the coats in the hall closet. 

The woman from the window stepped into the foyer. Mulder glanced back at her. "I'd like you to meet my mother-in-law, Sonja Skinner." 

They exchanged handshakes, introducing themselves to her. 

"I have a kettle soup on the stove if you'd like to have a bowl," she said. "It should help you warm up." 

"That would be nice," Fife said. "How's your son doing?" 

"He's mending," Sonja said as they followed her into the next room. 

Five little children were standing quietly next to the sofa watching them. 

"These are my grandchildren. I'm helping Fox watch them today," Sonja said. "Connor, Aviva, and Chloe are my son's and Fox's children. Gwendolyn is John and Alex's daughter and Joey is Blair and Jim's son." 

"They're fine looking children," Fife said. "Naomi mentioned last night that Blair and Jim are going to be adopting another baby." 

"Yes, they are and so are Alex and John," Sonja said. 

"The house certainly looks large enough for a couple more children," Fife said as he looked up at the high ceiling and the balcony overlooking the great room. 

"Do you live here, Mrs. Skinner?" Bayliss asked. 

"No, my husband and I have a small log home a couple of miles from here. I'm just over helping out 'til my son is back on his feet." They followed her over to the kitchen as Mulder walked into the great room to look after the children. 

Bayliss turned back and watched him as he led the children over to a coffee table where they were working on some art project with crayons and construction paper. 

"Please, have a seat," Sonja said. 

They sat at a long counter with six stools that faced the kitchen and a large wood stove. She opened the warming oven door on the top of the stove and pulled out a loaf of crusty bread that she sliced and placed in a basket then set it on the counter along with a butter dish. 

"Would you like a cup of coffee?" Sonja asked as she pulled three soup bowls out of the cabinet. 

"You have coffee?" Munch asked. "Real coffee? Not the fake stuff?" 

"Real coffee, but we are starting to run low. It's become the number one item that the boys search for when they enter the ruins." Sonja filled the bowls from a large kettle on the stove. "I hope you like wild rice soup with ham." 

Bayliss took a deep breath. "It smells delicious," he said as she set a bowl in front of him and Munch. The soup was thick and creamy and hot. Bayliss grabbed a slice of crusty bread as he picked up the soupspoon. He'd missed breakfast and was starving. Munch and the Sheriff had to wake him when they arrived back with the snowmobiles. 

"Fox, it's time for lunch," Sonja said, placing coffee mugs in front of the men. "Can you get the children in their booster seats at the table?" 

"Sure, mom," Mulder said then turned to the children. "You heard grandma, let's eat." 

"Daddy, can I have a chocolate chip cookie?" Connor asked. 

"Me, too," the other kids said. 

"If you finish your lunch you can have a cookie," Mulder said, lifting Aviva into the booster chair. 

Bayliss turned on the stool and watched as Mulder got each child seated at the table before snapping bibs around their necks. The detective turned back to the counter and continued eating. The soup was really good. The drone of the chainsaw he'd been hearing since they'd arrived suddenly stopped. A couple of minutes later the back door opened and a man with salt-and-pepper beard entered the house. The man removed his winter coat and hat and hung them by the back door. 

"Wade, how's the carving coming?" Sonja asked as she handed Fox a tray filled with bowls of soup and cups of milk for the children. 

"Fine," Wade said. "I have the rough outline done. I think Sam is going to like it." 

Sonja turned to face the counter. "This is my husband, Wade. He's been working on a woodcarving for the veterinarian clinic. You might have seen Wade's other works; he did the chainsaw carvings at Seacouver's, the ranger station, and out front." She glanced at her husband. "Wade, this is Sheriff Moe Fife and his detectives, John Munch and Tim Bayliss." 

The men stood to shake Wade's hand. 

"Sit down and finish your soup before it gets cold," Wade admonished as he walked over to the stove. 

"You're quite talented," Munch said, sitting back at the counter and picking up the soupspoon. "That grizzly bear you carved for the ranger station looks lifelike." 

"Thank you," Wade said, filling a bowl with soup. "I thought that piece came out rather well." 

"Where are the other men who live here?" Bayliss asked. 

"They're hunting wild turkeys," Wade said. 

Fife dunked a piece of bread into the soup as he asked, "Did Ranger Smith tell you about the body of a hunter he found last week in the woods? It was 'bout thirty miles from here on federal land. The coroner said that he'd been killed by a large canine -- possibly a pit bull or a wolf." 

"Sean did mention it," Wade said. 

"Are you taking extra precautions?" Fife asked. 

Mulder spoke up from the dining room, where he was alternating between feeding Chloe and Aviva. "We live in the middle of a forest, so we take the appropriate precautions. Besides the occasional bear or wolverine, there aren't many dangerous animals around here." 

"There have been reports of wolves in this area," Fife said. 

"One of our neighbors has a wolf that's part husky," Mulder said. "But other than Diefenbaker, I've never seen any wolves in these parts." 

"Maybe I should check out your neighbor's wolf," Fife said. 

"Dief's perfectly harmless," Mulder said, feeding his girls. 

The back door opened and a wolf ran inside followed by a man. 

"I guess you can see for yourself," Mulder said. "This is our neighbor, Benton Fraser, and that is Diefenbaker." 

"You have company," Benton said. 

"Mr. Fraser, I'm Sheriff Moe Fife from Holton and these are my detectives, Tim Bayliss and John Munch." 

"How do you do," Benton replied. 

"You're the Canadian Mountie," Munch said. 

"I am," Benton said. 

Bayliss watched as the wolf padded over to the table where the children were eating. The animal seemed friendly and Mulder showed no concern over the children's safety. 

"Ben, would you like some soup?" Sonja asked. 

"I can't stay. I just stopped by to pick up some eggs, butter, and milk." 

"I just made a batch of cream cheese would you like some?" Sonja said as she retrieved a couple of quart-sized, glass containers of milk from the refrigerator. 

"Yes, please," Benton said as he took off his backpack and removed two similar glass empty containers. 

"Do you always share your food with your neighbors?" Munch asked. 

"Benton and his house mates just arrived last winter," Mulder said. "Over the summer, we were so busy building their log home that we didn't have time to build a barn or chicken coop on their land. We'll get to that this spring." 

"They got us started on growing our own mushrooms in our caves," Benton said, "And we had put up vegetables and fruits this fall." 

"You guys are regular survivalists," Munch said. 

"No, we're farmers and crafters," Mulder said while loading the empty soup bowls back onto the tray. 

"What do you craft?" Bayliss asked. 

"Wood furniture and log homes," Mulder said, setting the empty bowls into the sink. He opened a cookie jar on the counter and put five chocolate chip cookies on a plate for the children. 

"I'll do that, Fox," Sonja said as she took the plate from him. "It's time to wake Walter to take his medicine and you should try to get him to eat some soup." She turned to her husband. "Wade, can you take a bowl of soup up to Jeffrey after you're done eating?" 

"Yes, dear." 

Bayliss enjoyed observing this family. Benton was just finishing packing a couple of dozen eggs into the backpack, along with two quarts of milk, butter, and cream cheese. 

"It was nice meeting you, Sheriff Fife," Benton said as he pulled the backpack on. "And you too, Detectives Munch and Bayliss." The Mountie turned to the wolf. "Dief, it's time to go." 

"Did you get everything you needed?" Sonja asked. 

"Yes." Benton nodded. "Thank you kindly." When he opened the back door to leave, a short pregnant redhead and a short man entered. They exchanged greetings as they passed. 

The short man's eyes narrowed as he looked at Munch. "Out of all of the mountain ranges in the country you would have to show up on mine?" 

"Mr. Frohike, it's nice to see you again, too," Munch said. 

"Mel, do you want to tell me who he is?" the redhead said. 

"Liz, this is Detective John Munch of the Baltimore PD," Frohike said. "He arrested Byers, Langly, and me fifteen years ago." 

"Don't hold the past against John," Fife said. "He's one of my top detectives." 

"I never thought I'd see the day where Holton became big enough to need detectives," Frohike said. 

"Me neither," Fife said. "We're in the process of building the Holton Police Station. I'll probably have to change my title from sheriff to chief." 

"So, Moe, what are you doing here?" Frohike asked. 

"We heard about Mr. Skinner being shot, so we just thought we'd pay a visit," Fife said casually. "On the same day Mr. Skinner was shot, another hunter was mauled to death..." He left the rest of the sentence hanging in the air as he looked at Liz. "I heard you removed the bullet, do happen to have it?" 

"Yes..." Liz looked like she wanted to take that answer back. She'd said it so quickly Bayliss knew she'd been caught off guard. 

"Good," Fife said. "I'd like to get it from you." 

"Why?" she asked. 

Bayliss wondered where the sheriff was going with this one, too. 

"I need it to run a ballistics test between the bullet and the dead hunter's rifle," Fife said. 

"I shot Walter," Frohike said. "It was an accident." 

"Sorry, Melvin, but I don't believe you," Fife said. "As we were loading our snowmobiles onto the trailer to come up here, one of my deputies dropped off the background report on the hunter. His name was Earl Watts from the town of Brooker. The man had a history of confrontations, fights, and domestic violence. Watts was suspected in the shooting death of another hunter, Mark Cline, two years ago. Mr. Cline had been shot in the back on his own land, and Watts had been spotted in the area. Because of the chaos from the recent alien attack, the sheriff from Brooker wasn't able to provide the resources to conduct an investigation." 

Now Bayliss knew the angle that the sheriff was working, but he couldn't figure out why he'd think that Walter Skinner's shooting could be tied to Watts. 

Munch must have been having the same problem connecting the dots, he asked, "The ranger said he found Watts' body thirty miles from this part of the mountains. Sheriff. Aren't you reaching? And Watts had been mauled to death by a wild animal." 

"I've known Ranger Smith since before he joined the military and fought in the Gulf war," Fife said. "While Sean is an honorable man who I'd trust with my life, I also know that he'd lie through his teeth to protect a friend. I believe Watts must have had a previous confrontation with Mr. Skinner and he came here looking for revenge." 

"So what are you thinking?" Bayliss asked. "That Watts shot Mr. Skinner then Diefenbaker ripped Watts' throat out? Sheriff, it sounds like a case of self-defense." 

"I have no doubt that it was a case of self-defense, but you know me. I like getting to the truth," Fife said. "I don't think it was Diefenbaker that killed Watts." 

"If it wasn't the wolf," Munch asked, "Then who?" 

Bayliss looked over at the bedroom doorway where Mulder stood leaning against the door jam listening to them. His expression was one of respect as he looked at the sheriff while waiting for him to answer Munch's question. 

Fife turned and looked at Mulder. "There have been too many reports of a pack of wolves living in this area for you not to have seen them. That leads me to conclude that you're trying to hide something. I want the truth, Mulder." 

"You couldn't handle the truth," Mulder said. 

Bayliss suddenly felt afraid -- a fear he couldn't explain. Sonja ushered the children into another room that was next to the bedroom where Mulder was standing. 

Wade stood. "Sheriff, you're outside of your jurisdiction." 

"I'm perfectly within my jurisdiction; two days ago the town council approved my request to extend my authority to include this area." Fife walked over to stand face-to-face with Mulder. "Does the truth have anything to do with why Melvin looks younger? Or how closely the children resemble their adoptive parents? After you moved here, Sean mentioned that you'd been previously abducted by aliens ... what did they do to you? You're not quite human, are you? It's why you and the others can go into the ruins and come out alive, isn't it?" 

"You're good, Sheriff." Mulder shook his head in amazement. "Not too many people in law enforcement would even contemplate going down that path of questions, let alone consider them." 

"Moe, where are you heading with this?" Munch asked. 

"Which one of you killed Watts?" Fife asked, looking deeply into Mulder's eyes. 

"Does it matter?" Mulder said. "Watts gunned down my husband in cold blood; he was a threat to my friends and our children. Anyone of us living here would have killed him in a heartbeat." 

"Your secret is safe," Fife said. "My detectives and I will not report or talk about any of what we're learning today. You have my word on that along with John's and Tim's." The sheriff looked at them. "Right?" 

Munch and Bayliss nodded. 

"You have our word that nothing you tell us leaves the mountain," Bayliss said. 

Bayliss wondered what type of tool had been used to make Watts' death look like an animal mauling. 

Fife turned back to Mulder. "I need to know the rest of it ... what are you, and where did the children come from?" 

Mulder glanced at Frohike, Liz, and Wade before returning to look at Fife. "You have it figured out. Go ahead, Sheriff, what do you think we are?" 

"Werewolves." 

"You have got to be joking," Munch said. 

Bayliss wondered if the Sheriff was suffering from too much stress and finally cracked under the pressure. 

"Your detectives don't believe you," Mulder said with a slight smile. "I know that look all too well." 

"I barely believe it myself," Fife said. "But I'm right aren't I?" 

Bayliss watched in shock as Mulder morphed into a large wolf, nearly twice as big as Diefenbaker. The detective backed away while wondering if he'd be able to reach his gun before the wolf killed them, but before he could make an attempt for it, Mulder morphed back to his human form. 

"I thought it was best that I showed you," Mulder said. "They'd never believe you otherwise." 

"I appreciate it, Mulder," Fife said. "What about the children?" 

"The alien virus that genetically altered us into werewolves also turned us into hermaphrodites." Mulder glanced at Munch and Bayliss. "I'm two months pregnant with Walter's and my next child." 

"Then that means that Jim Ellison and John Doggett are pregnant," Fife said. 

"How did you reach to that conclusion?" Mulder asked. 

"Naomi mentioned last night that Jim and Blair were going to adopt another baby," Fife said. "And Sonja mentioned that Alex and John were also looking into adopting. Since I recently saw Alex and Blair and they didn't look the least bit pregnant, I deduced it had to be their husbands, since I got the impression that the adoptions would be soon." 

"I like how your mind works," Mulder said. "You would have made a good FBI agent." 

Fife smiled at the compliment. "I'd like to see, Jim and John." 

"Sorry, Sheriff," Mulder said. "They're too far along in their pregnancies and would be embarrassed by anyone other than family seeing them in their present condition." 

"How can we be sure that what you're saying is true?" 

"Come back in April, I'll be approaching my seventh month." 

"Fair enough," Fife said. "We should be heading back; I don't want to get stuck in the snowstorm that's moving in. My dinner invitation still stands, and feel free to bring your son and daughters." 

"Thanks, Sheriff." Mulder held out his hand and they shook. "We might require your services in the future." 

"In what capacity?" Fife inquired as Mulder walked them into the foyer where they started to pull their winter gear back on. 

"When Walter and I come down to Holton, we can discuss it over dinner." 

Bayliss looked back into the other room. Liz had gone into the bedroom with Frohike and Wade was at the counter preparing a tray of food. 

"You're not going to be in trouble with the other werewolves over what you told us, are you?" Bayliss asked. 

"Only if you tell others what I told you," Mulder said. 

Munch smiled. "What and have people think I'm crazy?" 

They walked outside, and Bayliss looked up at the darkening sky. It looked like another large storm was moving in. The military kept the main interstates plowed and Holton had hired a snowplow company to keep their town roads and the highway from Holton to Seacouver's and the ranger station open. The driver also had volunteered to do the three-mile stretch of road around the Timberlake homes. The valley farmers had hired their own snowplow drivers to do the roads around the farms. Bayliss noticed that part of the paths had been plowed. He assumed it was to the other homes on this section of mountain, and he wondered what it would be like living in an area so isolated from the general population. He felt comfortable staying at Fife's place, but it wasn't a permanent situation. He'd have to decide where he wanted to live. 

~x~X~x~ 

The Bear 

Tuesday, December 7, 2004 

That morning, Skinner had been given the go ahead by Liz to get up out of bed for brief periods of time. With Fox's help he had taken a long hot shower then had breakfast with the family before going back to bed for a nap. Skinner was just happy to be able to use the toilet instead of a bedpan. 

It was a special day, Fox, Alex, Blair, and Skinner's father had taken the children outside to search for the family's Christmas tree. Skinner might not be able to help in the hunt, but at least he'd be able to watch from his place on the recliner by the fireplace as they decorated it. 

At first Skinner hadn't been too happy that Fox had told the Sheriff and his two detectives their secret, but Fox had assured him that they could be trusted to keep it. Fox wanted to enlist the Sheriff's help in protecting their family from CGB Spender. If nothing else, Skinner trusted Fox's judgment. 

"Walter, do you think you can handle a bowl of split pea soup?" Sonja asked. 

"Yes, Mom," Skinner said. "Can I have a glass of ginger ale, too?" His wound still ached like a bitch without the pain meds, but Skinner was determined to endure the pain during the day. He didn't like how the pain pills made him fuzzy-headed. Skinner still needed them at night in order to help him sleep. 

Jim waddled into the room and lowered himself down on one of the other recliners. "We're some pair, aren't we?" He sighed. 

"At least you'll have a new little baby girl to show for it," Skinner said. "I, on the other hand, will have one long scar." 

"Blair thinks your scar will heal," Jim said, "Like all of the scars have vanished on our bodies." 

"So does Fox. But I'll believe it when I no longer see it." 

Sonja walked into the great room with a tray that she set over Skinner's lap. "Do you need any help eating?" 

"I'm fine," Skinner said as he picked up the spoon. 

"Jim, would you like some soup?" Sonja asked. 

"I'd never turn down a bowl of your soup," Jim said. "How's Jeffrey doing today?" 

"He's still not well," Sonja said. 

"It's been almost two weeks that he's been sick," Jim replied. 

"He's still refusing to allow Liz or Laura to examine him," Sonja said. "He only allows Richard and Fox to help him in the bathroom. But at least he'll allow Wade and me to feed him. Poor guy, he's suffered so much abuse that I can't blame him for being afraid." 

John walked down the spiral staircase. He was in his sixth month of pregnancy and was almost as large as Jim. Liz thought she could detect two hearts beating and was pretty certain he was having twins. Alex was thrilled. 

Skinner watched John as he walked slowly into the room. Out of all of the men living there other than Fox, John was the one he felt most comfortable confiding in. While Fox had Frohike for a best friend, Skinner had come to consider John as his best friend. 

"Haven't they come back with the tree yet?" John asked while resting a hand on his round belly and looking out the window. 

"Don't worry," Skinner said. "The guys will bring the kids home before they get too cold." 

The back door opened and Fox came inside with the twins. He shut the door and hurried to help the girls off with their one piece snowsuits. 

"Where are the others?" John asked as he wandered over to the kitchen. 

"They're chopping down the tree," Fox said. "The twins needed to use the bathroom." 

Once the snowsuits were removed, the toddlers hurried into the bathroom with their mother right behind them. 

Skinner smiled as he listened and watched from his spot on the recliner. He'd never get over how patient and nurturing Fox was with the children. There were times when it seemed he didn't want anything more from life than to care for their children while being loved by Skinner. These past couple of weeks, Fox had been extremely busy, between taking care of Skinner, their son and daughters, and Jeffrey. Skinner was determined once he was better, he'd whisk Fox off his feet for a few days of rest and relaxation. 

"Daddy's up!" Aviva ran across the room and over to the recliner, followed closely by Chloe. 

"Did you find our tree?" Skinner asked, smiling at them. 

"Joey and Connor found it," Chloe said. 

Fox lifted the tray off Skinner's lap. "It's not the prettiest tree, but it was the one your son and his assessor in mayhem wanted." 

Jim chuckled. "I can imagine the type of tree those two would choose." 

"Uncle Alex said it was butt ugly," Aviva said. 

John shook his head. "I'm sure it isn't that bad." 

The tree stand was setup in the bay window, waiting for the tree to grace it. While Skinner wanted their family's Christmas tree to be perfect, he was willing to make the most of whatever his son and Joey had found. 

Skinner wasn't prepared for just how bad the tree looked when his father and Alex carried it into the room, followed by Blair and the rest of the children. There were missing and bare branches in the middle of the tree. 

Blair must have noticed Skinner and Jim's stunned faces. "Our sons felt sorry for the tree, it was all by itself on the top of a hill." 

"Maybe it won't look too bad once it's decorated," Skinner said. Maybe he could ask his dad to try and repair the middle of the tree with fresh branches from another tree. 

~x~X~x~ 

The Wolverine 

Wednesday, December 8, 2004 

It took almost three weeks for Jack to reach Holton. The snow across the Midwest and east coast had shut down many of the major interstates until the military could get the snowplows through. He climbed off the bus carrying his backpack. It was late in the evening, so he'd probably have to spend the night in Holton and catch a lift to the ranger station in the morning. 

The town was decorated for Christmas. Lights and wreaths decorated the shops on Main Street. There were a lot of people shopping -- more than Jack had ever seen in Holton. The town seemed to be bustling with activity. He wondered if he'd find a room at the hotel or if he'd have to sleep in the basement at either the Catholic or Baptist Church. 

"Jack!" 

Oh shit, he recognized that voice. Jack turned toward the source of the voice and watched as Sheriff Fife hurried down the street toward him. 

"What are you doing here?" Fife asked. 

"I came home to try to mend my relationship with my brother," Jack said. It had been eight years since he'd been in Holton last. 

"Are you trying to tell me that you've turned over a new leaf?" 

"Seeing my planet destroyed by aliens made me reevaluate my life." 

"Don't lie to me, Jack," Fife said. "I've spent the last three years trying to keep Holton free of criminals and thugs. If you try anything within my jurisdiction, I'll toss your ass in jail and throw away the key." 

"I'm heading up to the ranger station tomorrow morning, so I'll be outside of your jurisdiction." For a small town sheriff, Fife always had a way of making Jack afraid. 

"The ranger station falls under my jurisdiction now," Fife said. "Do you have a place to spend the night?" 

"I was going to try the hotel," Jack said. 

"It's full." Fife looked at him long and hard. "Head over to the Catholic Church and see Father Troy. He's erected a tent city for the new people arriving in Holton; he might be able to set you up with a cot for the night. In the morning, stop at the Sheriff's office and I'll have one of my deputies drive you up to the ranger station." 

"Thanks, Sheriff." Jack turned and headed in the direction of the Catholic Church. Holton had three Churches and a Jewish synagogue. The Catholic Church was the largest in size. 

Jack and Sean's parents had been members of the Catholic Church before their sudden deaths in a house fire. Jack had been seventeen, and Sean had ended his career in the military to come back to Holton to take care of him. It had been 1991 and the Gulf war had just ended. The two of them clashed heads from the moment Sean had arrived home. At the time Jack didn't want his older brother taking care of him. 

Father Troy had changed from the last time Jack had seen him. His dark brown hair had turned completely gray. "Jack, it's nice to see you again. Have you come home to visit your brother?" 

"Yes," Jack said. "Sheriff Fife said you might be able to find me someplace to sleep for the night." 

"It's a good thing you showed up when you did," Father Troy said. "I was just about to lock the doors and turn in for the night. Let me get my coat. There are a couple of cots left in the men's tent." 

"How many people are you housing?" Jack asked. 

"About four hundred." 

"That many?" Jack was amazed. When he had left, Holton barely had over eight hundred people living in town. 

"Holton's population is now close to three thousand." They walked down the darkened streets to the high school. In the football and soccer fields, dozens of large white tents had been erected. "The mayor and town council have been working with the military for building supplies. Since spring the town has assembled two hundred prefab homes, one hundred row houses, and a two hundred unit apartment building. As soon as I move one family out of the tent into their new home, another family shows up and takes their place. It's worse in the summer." They stopped outside a tent and the Father shook his head. "At least with the construction, the town has full employment. Have a nice night." 

"Thanks, Father," Jack said then stepped inside the tent. It was large with fifty men sleeping on cots. He found the two empty cots; each had a folded blanket and a pillow. A couple of electric space heaters provided enough heat to keep the tent comfortable. The place wasn't pleasant smelling; too many male bodies, and some with questionable hygiene practices. 

After placing his backpack under the cot, Jack removed his coat and boots before lying on the cot and falling to asleep. 

The sun was just rising when Jack got up and left the tent. He decided to take a look around town before heading over to the Sheriff's office. Other than Main Street and the older areas of town he barely recognized the place. He counted four new apartment buildings in various stages of construction that were being built on the bluffs overlooking the river. The new house construction looked like it had been planned to keep most of the old trees with open areas for gardens or for kids to play. Just off the old section of town were several streets of new row houses. Some had people living in them and others were still under construction. The brick and stone construction made these homes feel like part of the old Holton. On the commercial end of town, a couple of warehouses were being built along with a new police station and jail. 

By the time Jack headed to the Sheriff's office, people were up and moving around town. Construction workers heading out to building sites, parents took their kids to school ... Jack didn't recognize any of them. Inside, the Sheriff's office was crowded. They had moved several desks into the main room. He counted a dozen uniformed deputies coming and going. There were even what appeared to be police detectives dressed in suits. What had happened to his home town? 

"Jack Smith, is that really you?" Emma Grump asked as she made her way over to him. 

"Mrs. Grump, you haven't changed," Jack said, trying to be civil with the old gossip. 

"Neither have you," Emma said. "You still look like a hooligan." 

Sheriff Fife walked into the building followed by two men in suits and a young deputy. Spotting Jack, the Sheriff and the young deputy walked over to him. 

"Danny, this is Jack Smith," Fife said. "The man I told you about last night who I want you to drive to the ranger station." 

Danny nodded and turned to face Jack. "Mr. Smith, if you're ready I have my squad car parked out front." 

"I'm more than ready." Jack turned to the Sheriff, who he had acquired a whole new respect for after spending the last two hours walking around town. Without someone of Sheriff Fife's character, the town might have fallen into lawlessness like the countless towns Jack had passed through to get there. "It was nice seeing you again, Sheriff." 

"Keep out of trouble, Jack, and I'd say the same about you." 

Jack smiled and followed Danny out of the building and over to a police car. He tossed his backpack in the back before climbing in the passenger seat. "How long have you been in Holton?" Jack asked Danny as the other man started the car. 

"A little over three years," Danny said. "I arrived shortly after the alien attack." 

Jack looked out the window as they drove out of town, passing the new construction. "It looks like a lot of changes have happened to my home town." 

"The place is growing." Danny glanced at him. "The Sheriff is afraid that this summer we'll have even more people wanting to settle in Holton." 

As they drove past the farms on their way to the ranger station, Jack realized that he missed his home. Watching the scenery fly by, Jack recalled as a young boy how much he used to look up to his older brother. Then Sean had joined the military and Jack only saw him when Sean was home on leave. Jack had grown to resent his brother for leaving him and making a new life for himself away from Holton. Their parents were always proud of Sean, and Jack had become jealous of him. Then their parents died.... 

"Stop!" 

Danny hit the brakes and the police car squealed to a stop. 

"What the hell happened to the old mill?" Jack asked, looking out at what appeared to be a restaurant and bar. There were several cars in the parking lot. 

"That's Seacouver's," Danny said. "It opened in October. The owner is a Blues musician. The bar and restaurant are opened Wednesday through Saturday; you should check it out later. They have a gourmet chef and a wood-burning pizza oven, plus they brew their own beer." 

Jack and his buddies used to drive up there to party inside the ruins of the old mill. "Is Old Man Peterson still alive?" 

"He died four years ago," Danny said. "New people bought his property." 

"Too bad," Jack said. "He made the best shine in these parts." 

Danny drove on to the ranger station, pulling into the parking lot. Jack climbed out of the car and got his backpack out of the back seat. "Thanks for the lift." 

"Take care," Danny said then drove out of the lot. 

Jack looked at the ranger station. It hadn't changed. After Sean had returned home, he'd gotten the job as the ranger and moved them both into the station. 

The door opened and Sean stepped outside. "What are you doing here?" 

A little grayer around the temples but otherwise, Jack thought, Sean looked the same. 

"I came home to apologize to you ... I wanted to try to make amends." 

"Why?" Sean was unmoved. "I thought you said all you had to say eight years ago when you left." 

"People change in eight years," Jack said. 

"Are you still a mercenary for hire?" Sean asked. 

Jack looked him in the eye, and realized that the only hope they had was for him for to be honest for once in his life. "I was hired to come here by CGB Spender. When I tried to turn the job down, he threatened to have you killed." 

"You haven't changed," Sean said. 

"You're wrong," Jack said. "The old me would have come here and done the job I'd been hired to do, instead of telling you the truth. I need your help, Sean." 

Sean looked at him long and hard for several minutes, and finally said, "Just this once, Jack." 

~x~X~x~ 

End of Chapter Twenty-Six: Holton 

Coming soon Chapter Twenty-Seven: 

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